


traveling light

by sharkfish



Series: traveling light [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: "sorta" DP, (k it's DP whatever), (no pain/impact/breath/blood/bondage/stuff that belongs in a toilet), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bossy Castiel, Dommy Cas, Face-Fucking, Falling In Love, Gay Castiel, M/M, Phone Sex, Texting, Trans Castiel, Trans Male Character, Vibrators, i swear this wasn't supposed to be kinky but, referenced transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-29 14:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 42,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: Cas is, impossibly, far more gorgeous in person, and he’s taller than Dean expected, and he moves with this casual grace that makes Dean’s brain short circuit.So Dean thinks he probably looks a little like a deer in the headlights when Cas catches his eyes from the door of the restaurant. He breaks out into a smile, the full, wide one that never came out in his pictures, and Dean actually goes weak in the knees. “Cas,” Dean says.“Hello, Dean,” Cas says.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [fanforfanatic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fanforfanatic/pseuds/fanforfanatic) for the title and [remmyme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/remmyme/pseuds/remmyme) for writing some of the most important dialogue  
> \+ everyone in firechat for putting up with me stressing over this story

 

Dean has followed the Thursday’s Trips blog for almost a year, but always been too shy to comment. When Thursday posts something about some car trouble, though, Dean jumps on the opportunity to contact them.

Thursday has an email address available, but Dean just leaves a comment on the post:

 **Dean:** How often are you changing your oil? With the kind of mileage you’re putting on, you need to do it sooner than the 3-4 months. Could be your timing belt too but that would be related to your oil changes.

It’s a day before he gets a response, but Thursday is on the road, so it’s not a surprise. Instead of a reply to his comment, Dean gets a direct email:

 **Thursday:** Thanks for the advice on my car. You were right. This ended up being a very expensive mistake on my part. I feel like an idiot.

 **Dean** : Is that why you haven’t posted in a few days? Where are you stuck at?

 **Thursday** : Not far from Salem. I’m hoping to hit some of the wineries there but can’t pick my car up until tomorrow. Shitty motel it is.

 **Dean** Hey, don’t talk bad about shitty motels. I practically grew up in them.

 **Thursday** : I have no nostalgia for shitty motels, so the experience is less than pleasant. At least I haven’t seen any roaches. Yet.

 **Dean** : Nothing wrong with a few extra guests. Plus they are good protein.

 **Thursday** : That is 100% disgusting. I am going to end this correspondence.

 **Dean** : No you’re not, because I am hilarious and adorable. You just haven’t found out yet.

 **Thursday** : Oh really? Are you claiming your stupid roach joke was not a good indicator of your actual humor? I’m not even going to address the “adorable” comment.

 **Dean** : Nope, I’ve got way better material. Hey, what’s your name? You already know I’m Dean.

 **Thursday** : I don’t like to identify myself too explicitly on the blog, but you seem pretty harmless. I’m Cas.

 **Dean** : I won’t tell, promise.

Dean writes again, feeling embarrassed but he’s already had a couple of beers so it seems ok to say:

 **Dean:** I’ve been following you for awhile. Really love your pics. But I thought you were probably too cool for me to talk to.

 **Cas** : You’re making me blush. I’m always surprised when someone likes my little blog.

 **Dean:** Your pics are amazing.  If you’re not a professional, you should be.

Dean is blushing, too, because he knows he’s being kind of pathetic and fan-girl, but seeing things through Cas’s eyes has always thrilled him in a way he can’t quite explain. Whether Cas is just posting pictures of ramshackle buildings or close-ups of wildflowers they encounter, Dean is always enthralled.

 **Cas** : I’m an English teacher, actually. My photos aren’t much, but I enjoy taking them. You did a pretty good job diagnosing my car trouble with a pretty pathetic description of it. Do you work with cars?

 **Dean** : Ya, sometimes. Right now I mostly drive a tow truck for $$. But I rebuilt my baby from the ground up. 1967 Chevy Impala. [attachment: baby.jpg]

 **Cas:** You already know I know nothing about cars, but yours is beautiful.

 **Dean:** Ty. She’s the most important thing in my life for sure other than my little bro.

 **Cas:** Be careful what details you drop, or I’m going to be able to triangulate your location and murder you. I can see your license plate number in the picture you sent.

 **Dean:** So THAT’s why you’ve been travelling the country??? I’m fucked.

 **Cas:** I’ve seen a lot of Criminal Minds, so I’m ready to get away with murder.

 **Dean:** I prefer Dr. Sexy. You can trust me to do all of your surgeries.

 **Cas:** Doesn’t he wear cowboy boots? I do not find that trustworthy in a surgeon.

 **Dean:** It’s Dr. SEXY not Dr. GOOD SURGEON

 **Cas:** Not to cut this tantalizing conversation short, but I’ve got to get some sleep before I’m on the road again tomorrow.

 **Dean:** Oh yeah of course. Sorry for keeping you up. If you want tomorrow you can text me, I’ll just be working. 913-555-5922

 

In the morning, Dean receives a photo from an unknown number of a little red Nissan Sentra with the caption, _She lives!_

 **Dean:** Nissan? Really? Come the fuck on!

 **Cas:** There is absolutely nothing wrong with my car.   
**Cas:** Now that it has a new timing belt.

 **Dean:** I wouldn’t bother to change the oil on that thing either

 **Cas:** Please don’t remind me of my very expensive error.

 **Dean:** Fine, fine. Headed to Salem today? Doing some pretentious shit?

 **Cas:** I thought you said you liked the shit I do.

 **Dean:** I like the pics you take. Tho tbh I don’t care much about pictures of wine glasses

 **Cas:** You’ll deal with whatever I decide to take pictures of. And like it.

 **Dean:** You’re a feisty little fucker

 **Cas:** I’m getting in the car. Despite your insults, I look forward to talking to you later.

 

The next text Dean gets from Cas is a photo of a wine glass.

 **Dean:** I’ve never seen anything more artistic or beautiful.

Later, Dean gets another picture of a different wine glass. Then it’s a flurry of cell phone pictures, all the stuff Cas probably never posts on their blog, and Dean is late to more than one call looking at them. He feels like he’s been let into some amazing, private world he never knew existed.

Dean is just settling on his couch with a beer when he gets the next message.

 **Cas:** I admit to being a little intoxicated.

 **Dean:** I am shocked and appalled. DRUNK?

 **Cas:** I don’t usually drink much. So, yes. The wine has caught up to me.

 **Dean:** What is your usual drink of choice?

 **Cas:** Tequila.

 **Dean:** That is not what I expected you to say. I’m partial to whiskey myself

 **Cas:** Don’t you mean “whisky”?

 **Dean:** Only assholes spell it like that

 **Cas:** You’re not very nice, you know that?

 **Dean:** Awwww did I hurt your feelings?

 **Cas:** I’m changing the subject. If not tequila, what did you expect me to say?

 **Dean:** Idk, you seem like a fancy snot. Some kind of expensive wine I guess

 **Cas:** Wow, do you have ANYTHING nice to say about me?

 **Dean:** I’m sorry, I’m just kidding. I’m kind of a jerk

 **Cas:** I thought I was just getting to know your clever and biting humor.

 **Dean:** And my adorableness?

 **Cas:** That remains to be seen.

 

In the morning -- honestly, too damn early -- Dean gets a picture of the open road.

 **Dean:** Did you take that picture while driving???

 **Cas:** Don’t tell.

The next picture is of a speedometer cruising at seventy miles per hour.

 **Dean:** Stop doing dangerous shit!! I don’t want you to die!!!

 **Cas:** So you really do care.

 

The first picture Dean sends Cas is an early-morning snapshot of the two truck he drives, _Singer & Sons _decaled on the side. Dean almost makes it a selfie but feels too embarrassed at the last moment, just sends the truck. There’s no reason for Cas to see him, anyway. It’s not like Cas has ever shown their face on the blog or to Dean. Hell, Cas could be eighty years old for all Dean knows.

 **Dean** : Starting work.

 **Cas:** Now I know where you work, too. You really aren’t very good at this online anonymity, are you?

 **Dean:** We’re not online. It’s just you and me   
**Dean:** Unless you’re going to be a creep and start posting about me

 **Cas:** I’ve got much more interesting things to post about, honestly.

Dean finds himself smiling at his phone so damn much that Bobby notices and hollers at him to get his head out of his ass and get some work done. Dean resists checking his phone the rest of the day, but it doesn’t matter -- Cas must be on the road because nothing else comes in from them.

 

Dean loses track of time from when he first commented on Cas’s post through the weeks that follow. Cas sends a lot of photos and Dean sends some. They tease each other back and forth without sharing much of substance, but still, Dean starts to consider Cas a friend. And starts to wonder if they are flirting a little bit, though he still has no idea of Cas’s gender or age or, really, anything. Just the Sentra and the travel photos.

It’s Thursday, and Cas has just posted their photos from the previous week. They’d spent most of the week camping in Yellowstone. The highlights are the sunrise and sunset photos -- Dean feels privileged that he got to experience them in real time, even though he was annoyed at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn (literally) to see them.

 **Dean:** Your pics this week are amazing   
**Dean:** Like really really good

 **Cas:** Better than usual?

 **Dean:** I mean. They are always amazing. But I was looking at other pictures of Yellowstone and yours are so much fucking better

 **Cas:** You always know how to make me feel better. I woke up ill this morning.

 **Dean:** Oh shit, are you ok??

 **Cas:** Nothing a couple more days in a shitty motel won’t fix.

The attachment is the inside of an Every Motel, the same dingy mustard-colored floral comforter, the ugly landscape painting over the bed, the small tv that probably doesn’t even work.

 **Dean:** At least you’ll sleep in comfort

 **Cas:** With the roaches.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Dean** : Are you FLIRTING with me, Cas? _
> 
>  
> 
> _**Cas** : If you were amenable. _

**Dean:** Ok I don’t know if this is weird or not   
**Dean:** But I’m really curious what you look like   
**Dean:** You’ve never posted any pictures of yourself

 **Cas:** What if it’s because I’m hideous?

 **Dean:** I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it   
**Dean:** I don’t even know if you are a dude or a chick or how old you are or anything

 **Cas:** Does it matter?

 **Dean:** I guess not. Just curious.

 **Cas:** I’m a man and I’m 39. How about you? I assumed you were a man based on your name, but I really shouldn’t make those kinds of assumptions.

 **Dean:** Male, 34.

On what is an embarrassing whim, Dean takes a semi-drunken selfie and sends it over to Cas. Cas doesn’t respond for a long time.

 **Dean:** Sorry, you didn’t actually ask. But there’s me

 **Cas:** I’m trying to decide how to respond.

 **Dean:** What, bc I’m hideous?

 **Cas:** Quite the opposite. You’re very handsome.

 **Dean:** Are you FLIRTING with me, Cas?

Cas is quiet for a long time again. Maybe he’s driving, though he usually stops at night, doesn’t like to drive in the dark.

 **Cas:** If you were amenable.

Dean still doesn’t know what Cas looks like, but he’s strangely _amenable_ to that idea. It wiggles its way into his spine and puts a stupid grin on his face.

 **Dean:** I guess it’s awkward to just throw this out there, but I’m bi   
**Dean:** So yeah, “amenable”

 **Cas:** I’m gay.

 **Dean:** But don’t want to send a picture?

 **Cas:** I’m trying to take one where I look half decent. It’s been a long day.

 **Dean:** The road will do that to you

Cas attaches a picture without comment and Dean’s heart stops. Cas is fucking gorgeous, even with some pretty serious raccoon eyes: dark hair a mess, eyes blue like Texas skies, stubble Dean wants to feel rubbing against his cheek. He’s only smiling a little, but Dean gets the idea that Cas’s full smile could light up a room.

 **Dean:** Uh. You def don’t have anything to worry about on the hideous front

 **Cas:** Your flirting needs some work.

 **Dean:** Sorry I’m just honestly surprised I didn’t really expect you to be so   
**Dean:** Gorgeous, I guess? Is that too cheesy?

 **Cas:** What did you expect?

 **Dean:** Idk, you to just look like a regular person. Not a really hot one

 **Cas:** Thank you. I suppose I expected the same from you. You don’t look like your standard tow truck driver.

 **Dean:** What does THAT mean? Lol you are right though no beer belly for me yet

 **Cas:** I’m sure you’d still be cute with one.

 **Dean:** Aww thanks. You sure know how to compliment a guy

 

 **Dean:** Looks like some pretty bad storms where you’re driving through. Everything going ok?

 **Castiel:** You’re keeping track of the weather on my route?

Dean is really, really glad Cas can’t see him blushing. Because yes, he’s been tracking Cas on a map, and checking the weather periodically to make sure Cas isn’t going to run into any trouble. Any friend would do the same, right?

 **Dean:** Wow, really creepy of me I guess :-/

 **Cas:** A little.   
**Cas:** But I’m doing fine. It looks like the visibility is going to get pretty bad with the rain, so I’ll probably stop early. No more 70mph for me today.

 

 **Cas:** I haven’t heard from you for a few days and I’m getting worried. Is everything all right?

 **Dean:** My dad died

 **Cas:** What?! What happened? Are you ok? I can come there.

Dean doesn’t know how to feel, really, because his father was never a great parent and they haven’t really talked for the last couple of years, and Dean picked up drinking from him, so it’s more the last sentence of Cas’s message that hits him. Kindness. Dean has never been treated that way before.

 **Dean:** You don’t need to do that, I’m fine. It was kind of a long time coming so I’ve mostly already grieved I guess   
**Dean:** We weren’t really close anyway

 **Cas:** Still. I know you’re upset.

 **Dean:** I’m not

 **Cas:** You didn’t talk to me for days. Do you realize we’ve talked every day since Salem? I don’t think you’d avoid me if you were ok.

Stupid Cas and being one hundred percent right all the time. How can he see through Dean from so far away? Dean has spent the last three days drowning himself in Jack Daniels.

 **Dean:** I have to meet with the funeral planner today. We have to get this taken care of fast bc my brother has to go back to work in California. He’s probably missing all kinds of important stuff

 **Cas:** Is he your only sibling?

 **Dean:** Yes. Sammy. He’s a lawyer. He’s the brains of the family

 **Cas:** Implying that you are not smart? I would disagree.

 **Dean:** Not like you and Sam. I’m just a greasemonkey

 **Cas:** You’re much more than that.

 

 **Dean:** Just got done with the funeral

 **Cas:** Was it ok? Are you ok?

 **Dean:** Stop asking if I’m ok. It’s fine. People stood up and lied about how great he was, the end

 **Cas:** Did you do an eulogy too?

 **Dean:** Nothing to say really

 **Cas:** I’m sorry, Dean.

 **Dean:** Just stop

 

 **Dean:** I was a dick last time we talked

 **Cas:** Yes, and then you disappeared again.

 **Dean:** Fuck, I’m sorry. Fuck. Everything with my dad it was just too much   
**Dean:** I’ve been watching your blog still. You’re so amazing

 **Cas:** Thank you.

 **Dean:** I’ve been drinking a lot   
**Dean:** I don’t know why I’m telling you this   
**Dean:** There’s just no one else

 **Cas:** You can tell me anything. What are you running away from?

 **Dean:** Whatever he did to me to make me like this

 **Cas:** What are you like?

 **Dean:** I’m really drunk right now Cas   
**Dean:** I’m just a bad person   
**Dean:** I hurt people, I can’t even keep friends   
**Dean:** I fuck everything up

 **Cas:** You’ve kept me. Or do I not count?

 **Dean:** You count a lot

 **Cas:** There are people in your life who love you.

 **Dean:** I kind of wish you were here

 **Cas:** Don’t forget to drink some water and take an NSAID before you go to bed. Do you have some Tylenol?

 **Dean:** Ibuprofen

 **Cas:** Take some of that. Not too much. Go lay down and sober up. We’ll talk later.

 

 **Dean:** Can I tell you something

 **Cas:** Of course.

 **Dean:** I think about you

 **Cas:** I think about you, too.

 **Dean:** No I mean   
**Dean:** When I’m jerking off   
**Dean:** Just sometimes   
**Dean:** God I’m fucked up

Long, long silence, where Dean takes another shot or two, drinking right out of the bottle. He’s way too sober for this conversation, doesn’t know where the stupid words came from. But looking at Cas’s picture -- the only one he’s ever sent of himself -- makes something stir and shift deep in Dean’s stomach.

 **Cas:** Can I call you when I get to a motel?

 **Dean:** Yeah sure

 

It’s ten o'clock before Dean’s phone rings. He stares at it for a solid three rings, trying to get up the courage to answer. He knows he’s going to say something so stupid he won’t be able to take it back, but he wants to know what Cas sounds like.

“Hey,” Dean says.

“Hello, Dean.”

Oh god. Cas’s voice. It rumbles through Dean like a thunderstorm. Dean kind of squeaks, embarrassingly enough, and then finds it within himself to actually make words like a normal human. “What’s up? Drive go well today?”

“I’ll be to Lake Michigan tomorrow,” Cas says. There’s a pause, and then Cas says, “Are you alone?

“Yeah,” Dean says.

“You said you think about me.”

Dean is blushing so hard Cas can probably _hear_ it over the phone. “Yeah,” he says quietly.

“Tell me what you think about.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean says.

“Tell me.”

“I -- I imagine you naked.”

“I know there’s more than that,” Cas says.

Dean licks his lips. Despite his hesitation, there’s blood rushing downwards, mostly from the tone of Cas’s voice saying _tell me._ Like he knows Dean will do whatever he asks. “I think about you fucking me.”

“Hmm,” Cas says. “You like that? Being fucked?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought so. How do you like it? You want it slow and deep, so you can feel every inch of me? Or do you like it hard?”

“Both.” If he was honest, Dean thinks more about slow and careful, Cas’s hips flush with his and just grinding deep, sharing wet kisses. He palms his cock through his boxers, willing it to go down a little, not be so achingly hard.

“Do you want to fuck me, too?”

“Maybe. If you like that.”

“I do. But what I like more is pushing your face into the pillows and fucking you until you can’t breathe. Until you’re dizzy with it.”

Dean lets out a little gasping moan. He hears Cas’s breath hitch on the other side of the line, but quickly evens out to silence again.

“You like that,” Cas says, and Dean can hear a sly grin in his voice.

“Yeah, I… yeah.”

“Touch yourself.”

“Cas,” Dean whispers. “What are we doing?”

Cas laughs, but it’s gentle. “I thought that much was obvious. You’re going to touch yourself and come while telling me all the things you want me to do to you.”

Dean whines a little, already pulling his boxers down around his thighs and putting his hand on his cock. Just circling it, no pressure or movement. Waiting for Cas. “I didn’t -- I didn’t have any idea, Cas.”

“Shh. Stroke your cock now and tell me your favorite fantasy about me.”

“Are you…? Too?”

“Yes.”

Dean breathes shakily and fists his cock. “Can you -- can you send me a picture? I want to see you so bad, Cas.”

“Not now. Just talk to me.”

“I want you to kiss me. While you’re inside me. And I want you to -- god -- pull my hair, bite my neck.”

“Keep talking,” Cas says. His voice is deeper but breathy, and Dean has a perfect visceral image of Cas’s hand around his cock, stroking to the same rhythm Dean is touching his own.

“I bet you have a beautiful cock,” Dean says. “Fill me up so good.”

Cas gives that gentle laugh again, and Dean thinks he is going to develop a kink for being laughed at. “Tell me when you’re close, Dean.”

The way Dean’s name sounds coming out of Cas’s lips. “I -- I -- god, Cas --”

“Yes?”

“I like when you bite my nipples -- and -- fuck, your mouth --”

“Do you want me to suck your cock?”

“ _Yes_ , fuck --”

“I want you to come in my mouth, Dean. Can you do that for me?”

“Oh fuck,” Dean says, and it only takes a few more strokes before he’s coming all over his hand and belly.

“You didn’t tell me you were close,” Cas says, admonishing.

Dean is panting, says, “Are you?”

“Yes,” Cas says, his breath hissing through his teeth. “I’m thinking about laying you out in bed and kissing every part of you. And you like being bitten.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, closing his eyes and imagining it, Cas’s plush mouth on his sternum, fingers pinching his nipples, thigh in between Dean’s. And maybe Cas’s teeth on his neck, biting and sucking to mark Dean his.

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

“So close,” Cas says, practically growling, and Dean’s dick tries valiantly to respond.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers. He can hear Cas’s breath growing harsher, speeding up.

When Cas comes, it’s with a guttural moan, and it sounds like he comes _hard_ and long, and Dean can’t get enough.

For awhile, they just breathe to each other over the phone. Dean thinks it should be an awkward silence, but it’s not. He wonders if Cas touches after sex, if he would curl around Dean and pull him close.

Not that Dean likes cuddling. At least he never has before. But Cas is different, somehow, with his perfect photos and bright eyes.

“Cas?” Dean says softly after Cas’s breathing has calmed.

“Yes?”

“Is this… is it going to be weird between us now?”

“Because I just had a mind-blowing orgasm with you?”

Dean blushes. “Mine was, um, pretty good, too.”

“Do you feel weird?”

“I don’t know.”

“Weirder than thinking about me alone?”

“No, I guess not,” Dean says.

“Then I don’t think there’s anything to be weird about.”

“Will you send me another picture of you? Just, you know, your face.”

“When we get off the phone. Will you send one too?”

“Anything you want.”

“Then I think we should hang up now,” Cas says.

“Will you call me again sometime?”

“Sure.”

“Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean. Sweet dreams.”

Dean snaps a photo immediately. When he reviews it, he looks like he just came, his lips red from biting and his eyes a little dazed. He send it to Cas anyway, embarrassment be damned.

It’s only moments later when Cas sends a photo back. His eyes are dark and Dean wants to put his mouth on Cas’s bare collarbones. Dean wants desperately to know what the rest of Cas looks like, wants to see all the places he already wants to put his mouth and hands.

 **Dean:** Cas   
**Dean:** God   
**Dean:** I don’t know what would happen if you actually touched me

 **Cas:** You look beautiful.   
**Cas:** I’ll talk to you tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dean’s heart skips. “You were going to come? To see me...?”_
> 
> _“I was going to ask if you were amenable to seeing me.”_

**Dean:** I’m sorry about last night   
**Dean:** I shouldn’t have told you   
**Dean:** About my fantasies

**Cas:** Why not? 

**Dean:** Fuck cas it’s just so fucked up 

**Cas:** Have you been with a man before? Is that the problem? 

**Dean:** No   
**Dean:** I mean I have that’s not the problem

**Cas:** Then…? 

**Dean:** Idk just when I messaged you I never thought this would happen

**Cas:** Neither did I, so we are on the same frequency there. 

**Dean:** Do you like me though? 

Christ. Is he twelve years old, asking some girl if she  _ like _ likes him? Cas must think he’s pathetic. 

**Cas:** Yes. Very much so. 

**Dean:** I think I like you too 

 

Dean receives a picture of a sailboat on deep blue water, then another of Cas with the lake behind him. He’s clean-shaven and windblown and looks almost pretty. 

**Dean:** Why don’t you post pictures of yourself on the blog? 

**Cas:** I’d rather stay as anonymous as possible. 

**Dean:** It’s not like you are doing anything inappropriate that would like be a problem with your job

**Cas:** There are people who might recognize me that I’d rather not.    
**Cas:** The likelihood is very low. But it is there.

**Dean:** You look really good is all 

**Cas:** And you? What do you look like today? 

Dean is in shitty work clothes with a touch of engine grease smeared over one cheek but he takes a picture anyway and sends it without reviewing. If he looked at it, he knows he’d be too embarrassed to send it. Cas said Dean was handsome, but Cas could change his mind. 

**Cas:** Dean, you look wonderful today. 

**Dean:** I’m a mess

**Cas:** Are your eyes really green? 

**Dean:** Yeah I guess so 

**Cas:** The things I would do to you. 

 

The next time they talk on the phone, Dean calls Cas. 

“Cas,” he whispers brokenly into the empty air. 

“Dean?” Cas says. Dean can hear the road noise in the background, wheels turning ‘round and ‘round. “Are you ok?” 

They were texting hours before, but still, Dean says, “I miss you.” 

“Let me pull over. Hang on.” After a moment, Cas is in silence. “What’s going on?” 

“I just --” Dean laughs, kind of hysterically. “My dad is dead, you know? And it’s so unreal, and you’re the only thing real to me anymore, and I just --” 

“Dean.” 

“Cas,” Dean says back, his voice cracking again. 

“I care about you very much, and I’m worried about you right now. Is there someone there you can call?” 

“No, I just -- I’m sorry for bothering --” 

“Dean,” Cas says. “You can call Bobby. I don’t think you should be alone.” 

“Sorry,” Dean mutters, and he hangs up the phone. 

 

**Cas:** Dean?    
**Cas:** Dean, please answer me.

 

**Dean:** Sorry

**Cas:** Where have you been? 

**Dean:** Bender I guess

**Cas:** Christ, Dean. You can’t just ignore me like that. I don’t even know where you live. If something happened, I would never know. Do you know what that feels like? 

**Dean:** Would you care? 

Dean’s phone goes off and he answers it on the first ring, though he doesn’t say anything.

“Dean?” Cas says. His voice feels good, like the way scotch tastes after it’s made its way down your throat, even though his tone is all accusing and barely-contained anger.

“Yeah,” Dean says. He sounds sullen even to his own ears. 

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Cas says. “Don’t you ever tell me I don’t care about you.” 

Dean closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. 

“Do I mean nothing to you, Dean? Is that it?” 

“No!” 

“And if I disappeared on you?” 

Dean swallows, says meekly, “I would think you were dead on the side of the road.” 

They are both quiet for a long moment, drawn taut like a bowstring. “I can’t just drive around Kansas City looking for you,” Cas says. “And I can’t --” Voice shuddering, he tries again: “And I can’t just not know. You can’t do that to me.” 

“I don’t even live in Kansas anymore.” 

“Oh,” Cas says. 

“I just never got rid of the number.” 

“Where are you now?” 

“A long way away. Texas. Austin.” 

Cas says, “I’m glad I haven’t headed towards KC yet.” 

Dean’s heart skips. “You were going to come? To see me...?” 

“I was going to ask if you were amenable to seeing me.” 

_ Amenable _ again. Dean thinks Cas uses words like that when he’s nervous, even though his tone doesn’t betray a thing. “But you have to get to school soon. So I guess. Texas wasn’t on your itinerary.” 

“Do you want to hear something ridiculous?” 

“Um, sure.” 

“The new school I’m teaching at is in College Station.” 

Dean’s heart skips  _ again _ . “What?” 

“I moved all my things down at the beginning of summer. There’s an apartment there waiting for me.” 

“Cas, that’s like two hours from here.” 

“I know,” Cas says quietly. 

“That’s amazing! We could hang out -- like -- I could drive up on the weekends --” 

“I don’t know,” Cas says, and Dean can  _ feel _ him withdrawing. 

“You wanted to come see me though.” 

“I was thinking about just passing through,” Cas says. “Really I just called to make sure you were ok. And that you know I care about you. Very much.” 

“I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately. I just really -- I don’t know how to deal with -- Cas,” Dean says, frustrated. “I don’t know what I want, ok? I never have. But you make me want to be better. Maybe drink less, I don’t know. But… you were really going to come see me? Really?” 

“I was going to try to surprise you. So much for that.” 

“That would’ve been -- wow, Cas.”

“But you keep making me think you could be dead. Promise me, Dean. Even if you don’t want to talk to me, even if you’re angry, just tell me you’re going to be quiet for awhile.” 

“Not used to anyone noticing if I’m around or not.” 

“Sam? Bobby? Charlie?” 

“I guess I mostly mean my dad.” 

“I don’t say this to be cruel, Dean, but he isn’t here anymore. You can be your own person.” 

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says, and he means it. 

 

Cas finishes his photos for the summer and then heads down south. Dean receives pictures of Cas at every state line, sometimes smiling and mostly looking exhausted. Three months on the road has caught up to him, and he texts Dean more than once that he’s looking forward to sleeping for about a week before the semester starts. 

Dean thinks a lot -- way too much, actually -- about how Cas is just a hundred miles away now, but he doesn’t bring it up. 

He does, however, get a little tipsy the Friday night after Cas officially moves into his new apartment. 

**Dean:** Selfie? 

Most of the summer, Cas was halfway between stubble and a beard, but in the photo he sends, he’s clean-shaven again. There’s a generic cream-colored wall behind him and his shoulders are bare. 

**Cas:** Your turn. 

Dean bites his lip and looks up through his eyelashes and maybe flashes a little too much of his naked chest to the camera, considering they haven’t even talked about that one time they fucked over the phone, but when Dean can get out of his own stupid head long enough to want anything, he wants Cas. 

**Cas:** You look very sexy tonight, Dean. Are you trying to tease me? 

**Dean:** Is it working? 

**Cas:** Perhaps.    
**Cas:** Are you alone? 

Dean grins. 

**Dean:** PERHAPS my ass

**Cas:** I thought I’d trained that lip out of you. 

**Dean:** I can’t be tamed

**Cas:** I would say that remains to be seen. I think you would do anything I told you to. 

Dean shivers. His dick is quickly becoming interested in this conversation, so he turns off the tv and heads to bed, shimmying out of his boxers before climbing in. He’s still trying to come up with an extremely clever reply when Cas sends something else. 

**Cas:** For example, if I requested a photo of your hard dick, you’d send it to me right now, wouldn’t you? 

_ Fuck. _

**Dean:** You first

**Cas:** That’s not part of the deal. 

**Dean:** What do I get then? 

**Cas:** We can meet halfway for lunch next weekend. 

**Dean:** You would do that anyway

**Cas:** Do you want to test that theory? 

Dean wants to scowl, really, but all he’s thinking about is actually breathing the same air as Cas and he keeps breaking out in a smile. 

**Dean:** Fine. Just a min 

It doesn’t take much to get him fully hard -- as soon as Cas asked if he was alone, his body knew what to get ready for -- but it takes longer to get a picture of it he’s ok with. He wishes he had a tripod or something because macro shots of junk can just be so fucking weird, but it is what it is. 

**Cas:** Beautiful. 

**Dean:** That’s a real weird thing to say about someone’s dick man 

**Cas:** It’s a very manly cock, Dean. 

**Dean:** Now I just feel stupid 

And his erection is flagging, because he can’t really tell if Cas is laughing  _ at _ or  _ with _ him. 

**Cas:** I’m teasing. You have an amazing body. And you’re smiling! Do you realize you’ve never sent me a picture of you smiling before? 

**Dean:** Tbh just excited about maybe meeting you 

**Cas:** You have a very nice smile.    
**Cas:** But moving on.   
**Cas:** I didn’t tell you to touch yourself, so I hope you haven’t started yet. 

Dean sucks in a breath and the hand on his cock stops moving. Pre-come beads steadily at the tip and drips into a puddle just below his belly button. 

**Dean:** I want to hear your voice 

Dean picks up on the first ring. Before he can say anything, Cas says, “I know you already have your hand on your cock.” 

Dean bites his lip to contain a high-pitched noise that is trying to worm its way out of his throat. “I stopped.” 

“Good. Do you have lube?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Get it. And put me on speaker; you’re going to need both of your hands.”

Dean tosses his phone on the extra pillow and goes for the lube in his nightstand. His hands are actually  _ shaking _ . “Ok,” he says. 

“Hmm,” Cas says. “What should I do with you first? That’s rhetorical. Keep your mouth shut.” 

There’s a silence where Dean just stares at his dick and wills it not to be so goddamn eager. 

“Do you like to be eaten out, Dean?” 

“Is that, um, rhetorical?” 

“No.” 

“Yeah, I -- I guess I like it.” 

“You  _ guess _ or you  _ do _ ?” 

Blushing: “I do.” 

Silence again, long enough for Dean to wonder if he’s given the wrong answer. 

“Good to know,” Cas says. “Right now, though, I want lube on your fingers and your hand between your legs.” 

“You want me to finger myself?” 

Cas’s voice lowers. “I want you to think about how careful I would be with you. How good I want to make you feel. And  _ slowly _ slide a finger in.” 

“Fuck, Cas. I bet -- I bet you have pretty hands.” 

Cas laughs. “You objected to me calling you ‘beautiful,’ but I can have ‘pretty’ hands?” 

“I’m a little busy to be arguing about that right now.” 

“That you are. How do you feel?” 

“It’s not enough.” 

“I bet it isn’t, not when you want a dick to split you open. I should’ve asked -- do you have any toys?” 

“No.” 

“We’ll make do. Add another finger. Do you want me to kiss you while I finger you? Does that turn you on?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, his breath picking up as he slowly starts to pump two fingers in and out of himself. “I really want to kiss you.” 

“You’re not touching your cock yet, are you?” 

“You told me not to.” 

“Good. I think we’re just going to forget about that for awhile. How does that sound? Ignoring your cock while I fuck you with my fingers? My  _ pretty _ hands?” 

Dean gasps and pushes his fingers deeper. 

“It’s still not enough for you, is it?” 

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head before he remembers Cas can’t see him. “No, it’s -- fuck, Cas -- it’s not.” 

“If you insist, you can have another finger. But don’t forget: gentle. I’m not here to hurt you.” 

“Are you,” Dean starts, then pauses to lick his dry lips. “Cas, are you -- please tell me I can see you touching yourself, please --” 

“Don’t worry about me. Just think about my fingers as deep in you as they can go. Nice and easy.” 

“Cas,” Dean whimpers. 

“Yes, Dean?” 

“Want you so bad.” 

“I know, baby. How do you feel? Anything hurting?” 

“Fuck. No.” 

“Then I want to fuck you a little harder. Not too much. Just enough that you start feeling that pressure like the beginning of an orgasm.” 

Dean bites his lip and tries to follow Cas’s instructions even though all he wants to do is fuck himself hard and fast until he  _ has _ to grab his cock. But Cas wants to be  _ gentle _ and  _ careful _ and fuck, if Dean doesn’t wonder what it would be like to be treated that way. 

“Dean, you’re trying to stay quiet, aren’t you? I want to hear you.” 

Dean stops worrying at his lip with his teeth and the next time his fingers go deep, he chokes out a moan. 

“Last time you wanted me to bite your nipples. How hard?” 

“I -- I -- Cas, I can’t --”

“You can. Don’t stop fucking yourself, but I want you to lick your fingers and pinch your nipples. Ok?” 

At the first touch of wet fingers against a sensitive nipple, Dean arches off the bed. Over the phone, Cas chuckles darkly like he can see what Dean is doing. Like he can see how Dean is strung out on Cas’s voice and his own touch. “Cas,” Dean whimpers. 

“I’m right here, Dean. But if I were  _ there, _ I think you would start begging me to fuck you about now.” 

“Yeah, Cas, please,” Dean says. His wrist is aching but he couldn’t care less as long as Cas keeps talking. 

“Mm,” Cas says. “I bet you sound just incredible when you beg like you really mean it. Now, not as hard as you want, but you can fuck yourself harder.” 

“Fuck -- fuck -- god.” 

“Is that so? Is this what you’ll sound like when I fill you up with my cock? Slowly, just like you like it. You like to savor it.” 

Dean might not be touching his cock, but he can feel himself spiraling closer and closer to coming. “Can I -- please, Cas, can I --” 

“Soon. Have you ever came without your cock being touched?” 

“N-no.” 

“We can explore that. But I bet you’re getting tired, and you want to come so badly. Don’t stop with your fingers, but you can touch your cock. Do whatever you need to to get off.” 

At the first stroke of Dean’s hand on his cock, he cries out, and it’s only a handful before he’s coming all over his fist with breathy moans. 

“Listen to that,” Cas says softly. “You sound beautiful when you come.” 

Dean laughs, a little maniacally, because he’s covered in lube and come and his wrist hurts and  _ Cas _ just gave him a fucking fantastic orgasm without even touching him. 

“Is everything ok over there?” Cas says, but he sounds amused, too. 

“Just. Jesus, Cas. Where did that come from?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You -- you’re -- I can’t even think. I just came so fucking hard.” 

Now Cas is smirking. “And there’s something wrong with that?” 

“I just. Really can’t wait to meet you.” 

 

**Dean:** I’m still kind of freaking out about last night that was SO FUCKING GOOD   
**Dean:** But you weren’t even touching yourself or anything were you? 

**Cas:** I didn’t want/need to. 

**Dean:** Do I turn you on tho? Or not?

**Cas:** Dean, the idea that you don’t turn me on is patently ridiculous. 

**Dean:** Don’t want to be the only one enjoying it

**Cas:** Trust me. You were not the only one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit shit shit. _Cas is, impossibly, far more gorgeous in person, and he’s taller than Dean expected, and he moves with this casual grace that makes Dean’s brain short circuit._

The week crawls by like a particularly slow slug. Cas is at his new school but at least classes haven’t started yet so he still texts Dean periodically through the day, and it’s good: Dean needs his Cas fix after having Cas largely to himself all summer. 

Dean waits until Wednesday to bring it up.

**Dean:** I sent you that picture last weekend   
**Dean:** And you said maybe we could meet up this weekend   
**Dean:** Do you want to? 

**Cas:** I looked online and apparently there’s nowhere to actually meet halfway between us. 

**Dean:** Don’t worry about that, I really don’t mind driving. You can meet my baby 

**Cas:** I still don’t see how one needs to be introduced to a car.   
**Cas:** I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I have a lot of work to do this weekend so we wouldn’t be able to spend too much time together. 

**Dean:** No no of course. We can just have lunch or something like you said 

**Cas:** You want to drive 2 hours to have lunch with me? 

**Dean:** I really do

 

Dean has never been more nervous for a lunch thing in his life. It’s not even a date, and it’s not like he has a lot of options, but he still changes his clothes three times and argues with his hair for fifteen minutes straight even though it’s just going to be all windblown by the time he gets to College Station. 

**Dean:** We still on? 

**Cas:** Yes. I’ll see you at 1. 

Dean leaves early as hell, just in case there is traffic -- not that that’s really a thing on the way to A&M -- so he’s hanging out at the restaurant for half an hour before he spots Cas through the window.  _ Shit shit shit.  _ Cas is, impossibly, far more gorgeous in person, and he’s taller than Dean expected, and he moves with this casual grace that makes Dean’s brain short circuit. 

So Dean thinks he probably looks a little like a deer in the headlights when Cas catches his eyes from the door of the restaurant. He breaks out into a smile, the full, wide one that never came out in his pictures, and Dean actually goes weak in the knees. “Cas,” Dean says. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. 

Dean’s not sure what to do with his hands, but Cas solves that problem by swooping him up into a quick hug. It’s pretty bro-like, as far as hugs go, but it’s enough for Dean to feel how soft Cas’s hair is against his cheek and to smell his shampoo. 

Cas’s eyes are ridiculously blue and fucking intense. 

“Hi,” Dean says, blushing. 

“I didn’t expect you to be shy,” Cas says, and Dean just blushes deeper, but he’s not able to look away. “How was your drive?” 

“Drive talk, Cas? Really?” Dean finally finds his smile and catches Cas glance at his mouth. 

“You asked me every day all summer,” Cas says.

“That was different.” 

The waitress comes by and Cas orders black coffee for both of them. 

Dean says, “What if I wanted something else?” 

Cas arches an eyebrow. “But you don’t.” 

“Fuck you, Cas,” Dean says, and Cas laughs, and just that one moment is worth the four hours’ round trip on the road. 

“I can order your meal as well if you’d like.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Dean says. 

Cas gives a quick look at the menu, then smirks at Dean. “So you’re telling me you  _ don’t _ want a bacon cheeseburger?” 

“Fuck you,” Dean says again. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

The waitress comes by for their order. Cas does order for both of them, and Dean rolls his eyes but secretly kind of loves it. Dean is pretty sure Cas can tell because the turn of his mouth just challenges Dean to say something, and Dean does not. 

Dean knows before the food even arrives that most of his fears were for nothing. Cas is just as easy to talk to as he always is, only moreso because Dean can watch the quirk of his lips, arch of his eyebrows, the lines around his eyes that deepen when he smiles, and now Dean knows that some of the times when Cas seems kind of like an asshole, he’s just teasing, or oblivious, or a little of both. 

Dean is stealing the last fries off of Cas’s plate when Cas says, “So, Dean. Your pictures really don’t do you justice.” 

“Oh? Even more hideous in person?” 

“Stop chewing with your mouth open. Of course that’s not what I mean.” Cas fidgets a little with a stray straw wrapper, the first moment he’s seemed anything but calm and collected. “Do you think I could take your photograph sometime?” 

“Just one photograph?” 

“Don’t be obtuse.” 

Dean says, “I mean, sure. As long as you don’t expect me to model or something.”

“I don’t expect you to be anything but yourself.” 

“And you’re going to make me look better than my phone does?” 

Cas makes this face that Dean has already privately named the “don’t be a dumbass, Dean” eyebrows, and Dean laughs. “Yes, I believe I can do that,” Cas says. 

There’s a moment when they smile smile at each other, kind of stupid and sappy, and then Cas glances down at his phone. “I really should get some work done, though.” 

“Oh shit, I’ve held you up too long already.” 

“Not at all. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time. It’s just unfortunate I can’t spend more time with you today.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “I’ll walk you out to your shitty car.” 

“You are rude, uncouth, and I’m sorry I ever met you.” 

“Yeah, but I’m adorable.” 

“I can finally affirm that you are correct on that one.” 

 

Dean smiles so hard his face hurts all the way home. 

 

**Dean:** Ok maybe this is really pathetic to be asking already but do you think we could get together again? 

**Cas:** I wasn’t weird? 

**Dean:** You’re always a little weird

**Cas:** I was very nervous. 

**Dean:** Me too. Tbh I changed my shirt at least 10 times

**Cas:** You looked good. 

**Dean:** So did you   
**Dean:** Like really fucking good

**Cas:** I’m not sure what my schedule is going to look like this first week. Can we reconvene on this later in the week?

**Dean:** Ok. But I was thinking I could come there and make you dinner at your place. Then we could see each other but you could still get some work done if you needed to

**Cas:** I’m sorry, but I’m not ready for that yet. 

**Dean:** Oh. Lmk then I guess 

 

**Cas:** I know I disappointed you when you talked about coming here the other day. Please don’t get the impression that I don’t want to see you. I just want to take things slow. 

**Dean:** Slower than me fucking myself for you over the phone? 

**Cas:** Yes. It was easier when I didn’t think we’d have a chance to spend a lot of time together. 

**Dean:** Stupid of me to think you liked me then too I guess

The phone rings.

“Dean. I can only talk for a minute, but I just want to be clear. I’ve liked you very much for a very long time, but I thought we were going to be seven hundred miles away from each other. Now we’re not, and we have to get to know each other all over again in a new medium. I don’t rush into these kinds of things and that has nothing to do with how much I like you.” 

“I’m unloading a car, so --”

“Absolutely not. You do not get to hang up without at least acknowledging what I said.”

Dean stares down at his boots. “Ok, I acknowledge.” 

“And?” 

“I get it.” 

“I don’t think we’re done talking about this, but I have to get back to work, too. I’ll text you when I get home.” 

Still, Dean spends the rest of the day in a weird mood. Somewhere along the line he figured that with Cas so close by, things would just… happen. They would do things Dean never does, like go on dates and stay over for the night and get drunk on Mexican martinis. And have mind-bogglingly good sex, too, maybe right out of the gate, because it  _ feels  _ like they’d been courting each other for months already. If Cas is already his best friend and knows all of Dean’s stupid secrets, the things he never would’ve been able to say without the buffer of a cell phone and thousands of miles between them, then what else is there other than the fucking? 

**Cas:** Did you spend all afternoon beating yourself up? 

**Dean:** No

**Cas:** Are you misrepresenting the truth? 

**Dean:** Alternative facts   
**Dean:** Admit it, you laughed

**Cas:** The hilarity is extraordinarily strong with you tonight. 

**Dean:** Why are we talking about me? You have a first day of school to tell me about. How was it??? 

**Cas:** Texas is weird. I continue to be appalled at the number of books that are banned from schools.    
**Cas:** This is a place of learning, and young Earth creationists teach here.  

**Dean:** Holy fuck

**Cas:** At least there’s another teacher all the girls have their eyes on. 

**Dean:** Aw, you jealous that no one is hot for teacher anymore? 

**Cas:** You are. 

**Dean:** You got me there

**Cas:** Be serious for a minute. For all my talk of taking it slow, I may have jumped ahead. I made the assumption that you were interested in me more than just platonically. Was I mistaken? 

**Dean:** No you’re right. If that’s ok

**Cas:** It is very, very ok. I’ve been harboring a bit of a crush on you for some time. 

**Dean:** Probably since I told you how dumb you were about your car

**Cas:** I find your insults upon my car and character to be charming.   
**Cas:** Do you understand that I want to see you, but am not ready to jump into a sexual relationship yet? 

**Dean:** Is that it? You don’t want to have sex? 

**Cas:** I do, but not yet.

**Dean:** Sorry if I’m being “obtuse” but are you saying that I could take you on a date? Just without any expectations

**Cas:** I would like that. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __**Dean** : Ok so to recap, we had a date. I got to kiss you TWICE, you didn’t hate my food, you didn’t hate Dr. Sexy and I’m pretty sure you don’t hate me. I had a really fucking awesome time  
>  **Dean** : Ok honestly probably the best date I’ve ever had 

Cas opens the door in a light blue striped shirt, dark jeans, and bare feet. His hair looks at least half-tamed and there’s only a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw.

Dean has been telling himself all week that he’s going to play it cool this time, but he nearly drops the groceries when his heart jumps into his throat. 

“Careful,” Cas says, grabbing the bags from Dean. “Was this much food really necessary?” 

Dean shrugs. “I didn’t know what you had.” 

Dean pulls off his boots by the door and follows Cas into the kitchen. “This apartment is not the nicest,” Cas says, “but that’s how I afford to drive around all summer.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Dean says. Especially since the kitchen is small enough that they are in each other’s space. Dean could reach out and run his hand down Cas’s bare forearm so easily, but he doesn’t. 

“Let me give you the tour.” Dean follows Cas out into the main room, and Cas says, “This is the living room, as you may have surmised. There’s the bathroom and there’s the bedroom. That concludes the tour.” 

“I might need your help with that later.” 

Dean tries not to be too creepy as he glances around, trying to get a feel for how Cas navigates this space he’s made for himself. The long wall is taken up by a second-hand couch that has probably seen better days, then the tv on another wall, and mismatched bookshelves on the far wall. Books are lined up and stacked every which way, many of them with post-its sticking out the top or sides. 

“That’s a lot of books,” Dean says intelligently. 

“English teacher,” Cas says, gesturing at himself. 

“Sorry. I’m just. Um.” 

“Really nervous?” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“A little bit,” Cas says. “But I have an idea.” 

“Yeah?” 

“What’s the most nerve-wracking part of a date?” 

“Is this a trick question?” 

Cas sighs, a little over-dramatic, and Dean grins. “For me,” Cas says, “I think the worst part is the kiss. Not the kiss itself, but the… deciding when, and trying to figure out if both of you are on the same page about it, and whether you have terrible breath. Et cetera.” 

“Ok,” Dean says. 

“I, for one, just brushed my teeth, and I’d like to know what it’s like to kiss you before I’ve spent all night overthinking it.” 

Dean’s heart picks up speed and he sneaks a look at Cas’s mouth just in time to see Cas’s tongue dart out and wet his lips. “It sounds like you’ve already been overthinking it,” Dean says. 

“Dammit, Dean. Are you going to let me kiss you or not?” 

“Kiss me.” 

Cas takes two steps forward, right into Dean’s space, and he reaches up a hand to cup Dean’s jaw before bringing their mouths together. 

It’s not the kind of  _ hot _ kiss that Dean is used to, just racing towards getting clothes off and mouths elsewhere, but it sits molten in his belly all the same. Their lips part at the same time and Dean offers up his tongue; Cas welcomes it into his mouth with a happy little hum, hand on Dean’s jaw tightening a little. Dean reaches out for him, one hand sliding up into Cas’s ridiculous thick and soft hair, the other going to his hip to tug him closer. 

Dean exercises a lot more self-control than he was even sure he had to not palm at Cas’s ass or dick. He doesn’t even leave Cas’s mouth to rub their cheeks together, to bite and lick at his neck. He just lets Cas sweep him off in a kiss -- or five, or ten -- long enough for it to definitely be  _ making out _ .

When they part, Cas’s eyes are half-lidded with arousal, lips red and kiss-bitten, and Dean guesses he doesn’t look much better. 

“Holy shit,” Dean whispers. 

“I agree,” Cas says, his eyes back on Dean’s mouth. 

“Cas, I -- fuck, that was good, but I’m not going to be able to keep my hands to myself if we do it again right now.” 

Cas smiles his little pleased half-smile. “I appreciate your candor,” he says. 

Dean nods and looks away from Cas in the hopes of not doing something really stupid like hitting his knees in the middle of the living room and undoing Cas’s jeans with his teeth. Belatedly, he pulls his hands away, too, and takes a step back. 

Cas says, “Now that I know what it’s like to kiss you and what you look like when you’re turned on for me, let’s start dinner.”

 

**Dean:** Good morning

**Cas:** What are you doing up already? 

**Dean:** What are YOU doing up already? 

**Cas:** You had a 2 hour drive after you left, so I’ve had 2 hours more sleep than you. 

**Dean:** Have you had coffee yet? Or is it still too early for me to tell you what a great time I had last night 

**Cas:** Never too early to hear that from you. 

**Dean:** Ok so to recap, we had a date. I got to kiss you TWICE, you didn’t hate my food, you didn’t hate Dr. Sexy and I’m pretty sure you don’t hate me. I had a really fucking awesome time    
**Dean:** Ok honestly probably the best date I’ve ever had 

**Cas:** We had a date, yes. You’re a wonderful kisser and a wonderful cook, though your taste in tv is questionable. I couldn’t hate you any less.   
**Cas:** And yes, for me as well. 

 

So here’s the thing: Dean has been grinning like an idiot since he met Cas -- not just since they met in person for the first time, but practically since they started texting, and people are starting to notice. 

**Charlie:** Sam said you’re acting weird. Are you acting weird? 

**Dean:** Wtf? What are you doing talking to SAM? 

**Charlie:** We’re friends, dipshit. 

**Dean:** Since when? 

**Charlie:** Since he hired me for that thing last year. Enough about that. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU RN? 

**Dean:** Jesus, woman. Nothing

**Charlie:** Hmmm…   
**Charlie:** You’ve been skipping out on game night with Dorothy and me…   
**Charlie:** You must not be getting laid or you would be telling me about it…

**Dean:** Would not

**Charlie:** We both know I live vicariously through your man whore habits now that I’m settled down.    
**Charlie:** Are you SEEING SOMEONE??????????

**Dean:** For the love of all things holy, do NOT jinx this for me 

**Charlie:** OMG!    
**Charlie:** OMG!   
**Charlie:** OMG!

**Dean:** I said not to jinx it   
**Dean:** Fucking lesbians ruin everything

**Charlie:** You once told me you were a lesbian trapped in a man’s body. 

**Dean:** Let it go. I was drunk

**Charlie:** And in a lot of denial about a certain love for dick. 

**Dean:** Dark times

**Charlie:** Speaking of… dick/no dick? 

**Dean:** Jesus, dick

**Charlie:** Name? 

**Dean:** Cas

**Charlie:** And? Tell me everything about him. 

**Dean:** I don’t like this game. But here’s a picture

Dean sends a picture he took the weekend before, Cas in Dean’s place with his head tossed back in laughter. 

**Charlie:** Just to make this clear I am full 1000% gay but you done well, my little grasshopper.    
**Charlie:** Last question. No details necessary. But I have standards for you. Is he good in bed?    
**Charlie:** …   
**Charlie:** Must be really bomb-ass dick if you aren’t telling. 

 

**Dean:** Call me? 

**Cas:** Can it wait an hour? I’m almost done with these essays. 

**Dean:** Yeah np 

“Hey, Cas.” 

“Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah, I just. Wanted to hear you.” 

“Well, hello there,” Cas says, a smile in his voice. “Would you like to hear me say anything specific?” 

Dean takes a deep breath. “Yeah, actually.” 

The line goes hushed. 

“Look, I know I’m the biggest asshole in the world, ok? And I know it hasn’t been  _ that _ long but --”

“You want to know why we’re not having sex.” 

“Are you asexual? I mean, if it’s that, I can --” 

“No, that’s not it. I’m attracted to you in every way there is to be attracted to someone,” Cas says.

Dean bites at his lip. “But?” 

Cas sighs, and Dean can perfectly picture the way he’s pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Can I see you tomorrow? I’ll come down when I get off work.” 

“No, that’s stupid, you have school on Thursday. If you -- fuck, Cas. Are you going to break up with me?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“I’ll come up there. I can tell Bobby I need off early and meet you when you’re done with school.” 

“Meet me at Kettle at five?” 

“What? Not at your place?” 

“I think it would be better if we met there.” 

“Oh,” Dean says, “ok. I’ll see you then.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Cas glares at him for a brief moment, then gets up. “Christ,” he says, “fucking cis guys.”_

Just after five, Dean joins Cas in a booth in the very back corner. There are already two mugs of coffee steaming on the table. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. 

“You look tired.” 

“So do you.” 

“I’m really sorry about last night,” Dean says, “I know I’m a huge asshole. I’ll wait however long you want.” 

“No, that’s not it. It’s just --” Cas closes his eyes and does the nose-pinching thing, mouth drawn tight. “This conversation never gets any easier.” 

Dean reaches across the table and rests his fingers against Cas’s free hand. “What conversation?” 

Cas drops his hand from his face and stares down at where his and Dean’s hands are touching. After a long moment, he pulls away, and Dean retreats back to his own side of the booth. 

“I’m a trans man, Dean. Transgender.” 

Dean can tell he’s supposed to say something, but all he comes up with is, “Um?” 

“Fucking hell,” Cas says, glaring at his reflection in the window. 

“I’m about to sound really stupid,” Dean says, “but you mean, like… you’re a woman on the inside?” 

“Fucking hell,” Cas says again, muttering more to himself than directing anything at Dean. “No, Dean. It means that I was --” he sneers, like the words are distasteful “-- ‘born’ female with a male ‘on the inside.’” 

“Oh,” Dean says. “Well, you know I’m bi, right?” 

“Yes, and?” 

“So… I don’t care what you have in your pants. Or don’t have.” 

Cas glares at him for a brief moment, then gets up. “Christ,” he says, “fucking cis guys.” 

“No -- wait -- Cas --” Dean reaches out for Cas’s arm, but stops himself at the last moment. 

“Scared to touch me now?” 

“What? Fuck, no, but you don’t just  _ grab _ people. And  _ you _ can’t just leave.” 

Cas crosses his arms, still glaring. 

“Ok, I mean, obviously you  _ can _ . But please don’t. Sit down, please?” 

There’s another long moment where Dean is pretty sure Cas is just going to walk out, probably away from Dean forever, but then he slides back in the booth, arms still crossed. 

“I’m guessing that was a pretty dumb thing for me to say,” Dean says. He tries to offer a smile but Cas’s mouth is an unyielding line. “Shit, Cas. I’m in a little over my head here. Help me out.” 

“How do you propose I do that?” 

“I don’t know, man,” Dean says, looking down. “Don’t give up on me yet?” 

Cas is silent, but when Dean glances up, his eyes aren’t quite as hard. 

“I just meant that -- I’m really crazy about you. And if you thought being trans, or whatever, was going to scare me off, it’s not. I guess I don’t know the right way to say that.” 

“You’re crazy about me.” 

Dean blushes, scratches at a speck of nothing on the tabletop. “You couldn’t tell?” 

Cas’s arms relax, just barely, and he tilts his head to the side as he studies Dean. “I guessed.” 

“But…” Dean bites at his lip, can’t meet Cas’s eyes again. “You don’t feel that way about me?” 

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have bothered to even try having this conversation.” 

“Ok, so. So that’s good.” When Dean smiles, small, he catches the barest upward twitch at the corner of Cas’s mouth. “I just don’t know -- I guess, I’m really stupid about this kind of stuff. I know the right words are important, I just don’t really know what they are.” 

“That much has been established.” 

“Can we, Cas, can we go to your place to talk about this?” 

Cas appraises him. “I prefer to meet in public because it might not be by much, but you  _ are _ bigger than I am.” 

Dean sucks in air. “You thought I would hurt you?” 

“I can never be too careful.” 

“Has someone hurt you before?” 

Cas doesn’t answer. 

“Shit, Cas. I would never -- I couldn’t.” 

Cas pulls out his wallet and drops a ten for their cold coffees. “Let’s go.” 

 

Cas’s place is in disarray, papers and assignments covering every surface. Dean laughs and says, “Is this what it usually looks like in here?” 

Cas scowls. “I told you how many students I have.” 

“Where do you even hide all this when I come over?” 

“Stop asking questions and help me clear off the table.” 

Silently they compile ten smaller stacks from the coffee table into one large cross-hatched stack on the floor, then Cas collapses into the couch cushions. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose again. 

“Stop that,” Dean says, touching his hand. 

Cas’s eyes fly open at the touch like he’s spooked and he drops his hand. 

“Can I, um, sit?” Dean says. 

“Of course.” 

Dean sits down next to him. Together, spread out, they take up most of the small couch. Dean spreads his legs just a little more and his knee knocks against Cas’s. “Can I ask a really stupid question?” 

“Be my guest,” Cas says. 

“And you’ll try not to get mad?” Cas rolls his eyes, so Dean forges ahead anyway. “I’ve seen you with, like, a beard.” 

“Was that a question?” 

“I just mean -- if you’re, you know --”

“Trans. You can say it.” 

“If you’re trans. Then how…?” 

Cas frowns like he’s trying to decide how seriously to take Dean, then takes a deep breath and sighs it all out in a rush. “You know, I swore I would never try to do this again. Try to teach some cis guy about what it means to be trans.” 

“If I’m just some guy, then --”

“Goddammit, Dean. That ship sailed a long time ago.” 

Dean just looks at their knees touching, willing himself to get a whole lot smarter in the span of about ten seconds. 

“Hormone replacement therapy. Injections of testosterone as well as some other pertinent androgens. I’ve been on testosterone for about a decade now.” 

Dean laughs a little. “I guess I’m not sure why I asked because I didn’t understand much of the answer anyway.” 

“Testosterone: good. Estrogen: bad.” Cas says it slowly like he’s talking to someone particularly stupid, but Dean knows Cas well enough to tell he’s just being fucked with. 

“Ok,” Dean says, “and, um, this is going to be stupid, too, but --”

“I’ve accepted that pretty much everything you say on the topic is going to be at least a little stupid, Dean. I don’t need the preface.” 

“You like sex, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“And do you think you would like sex with me?” 

“Very much so.” 

“And you’re a man.” 

“Yes, though my anatomy doesn’t look like what you’re accustomed to.” 

“Another stupid question. Hear me out.” 

“I can’t wait,” Cas says dryly. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Cas’s eyebrows raise and for a moment he just looks at Dean like he’s waiting for the punchline. 

“If not, that’s cool, too.” 

“No, that’s… fine.” 

Dean grins, leans over, and kisses Cas. This Dean can do -- kiss Cas until he’s breathless with it, until Cas clings to his biceps and makes little noises against his mouth. Cas is a little stiff at first, but when Dean slides the tip of his tongue along Cas’s bottom lip, Cas relents and melts into Dean. 

 

**Dean:** Morning Cas. How’re you? 

**Cas:** Good morning, Dean. I’m fine. Yourself? 

**Dean:** I was up all night reading   
**Dean:** I just want you to know that I’m trying 

**Cas:** Find anything interesting? 

**Dean:** Now I really can’t believe you didn’t walk out on me last night

**Cas:** You’re strangely endearing even while floundering.

**Dean:** Did you still want to come to mine on Sat? 

**Cas:** Actually, I think you should come here. Do you have anything going on Sunday? 

**Dean:** No why? 

**Cas:** Bring an overnight bag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com) on tumblr


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You dressed up,” Cas says, smirking. “Hot date?”_
> 
> _“Yeah,” Dean says, dropping his bag and tugging off his boots. “Hot date with this really hot guy who is kind of my boyfriend who I think I’m going to get naked tonight.”_

Dean puts on a button-up. Then changes into a t-shirt. Then puts the button-up back on. Then stares at himself shirtless in the mirror for awhile, trying to figure out what Cas might see when he looks at Dean. 

In the end, he chooses the button-up, because the salesperson told him it makes his eyes look greener. 

Cas, of course, looks casually gorgeous in a faded t-shirt and jeans with a hole in one knee. Dean is a little embarrassed to have over thought his outfit so much, but then Cas licks his lips and roves his eyes slowly up and down Dean’s body, and it’s totally worth it. 

“Hey,” Dean says. 

“You dressed up,” Cas says, smirking. “Hot date?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, dropping his bag and tugging off his boots. “Hot date with this really hot guy who is kind of my boyfriend who I think I’m going to get naked tonight.” 

“Is that what you think?” Cas says, letting Dean back him up against the wall. 

Dean grins, leaning down to nip at the side of Cas’s neck. “I mean, yeah. Am I wrong?” 

“I think we need to talk about that a little more but --” Cas’s breath catches as Dean mouths between the knobs of his collarbones “-- no, you would not be wrong.” 

“What would you like to talk about?” Dean says, trailing his lips back up Cas’s throat. 

“First of all,” Cas says, tilting his head back to bare his neck for Dean, “ _ kind of _ your boyfriend? What do you think we’ve been doing since August?” 

Dean pauses, face pressed into Cas’s neck. “We hadn’t talked about it. I didn’t even mean to say that at all.” 

Cas slides his hand into Dean’s hair and pulls his head back so they are looking at each other. “If you had asked, we would’ve talked about it.” 

“Wanna be my boyfriend, Cas?” 

Cas smiles, small and pleased. “Yes.” 

“So what’s the second-of-all?” 

Cas just looks at him, and Dean gets lost in his eyes for a minute. Cas leans forward to kiss him, gently, then points towards the living room. “Couch.” 

Rushing ahead gives Dean the chance to watch Cas stalking after him, approaching where Dean is already relaxed into the cushions. Cas leans over for another kiss, fingertips on Dean’s jaw, but pulls back quickly. 

“Cas,” Dean whines, reaching for his hips, but Cas backs away from his touch. “Ok, ok,” Dean says. “I know I’m supposed to ask you what words to use, and how you like to be touched, and if -- fuck.” 

“See? You’re already distracted.” Cas tuts, shaking his head, but there’s a laugh in his eyes. “Did you see pictures? Post-T?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, leaning forward to hook a finger in Cas’s belt loop, hauling Cas close so Dean can nuzzle his stomach through his shirt. “I’m not worried about that, Cas. I’ve seen people naked before.” 

“What  _ are _ you worried about?” 

Dean glances up at Cas and then away again. “That I’ll say the wrong thing and hurt you. Or do the wrong thing.” 

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Dean. I’ll survive.” 

“I know. But I want to make you happy. I want to make you feel good.” 

Cas’s smile is tender enough to make Dean blush. “You’re so kind-hearted,” Cas says, leaning down to kiss the top of Dean’s head. “Words, though. I do not like words that are female-coded. ‘Pussy’ and ‘clit’ are not ok.” 

“What is ok then?” 

“Dick, cock, whatever you call yours. I’m not thrilled with any of the words available for my other hole so that’s all I generally call it.” 

“Got it. Do you like to be touched there?” 

“Not always.” 

“When we, um, talked on the phone,” Dean says. “You said you wanted to fuck me. Is that…?” 

“I have a harness.” 

“Yeah, ok,” Dean says, licking his lips. “And you’ll show me how to -- to touch your cock?” 

“Yes.” 

“And I can suck you?” 

“Yes,” Cas says, and then, laughing: “You should see the look on your face right now. You lit up like a Christmas tree.” 

Dean feels the ridiculous urge to hide. Two decades worth of sexual experience, and  _ this _ embarrasses the hell out of him. Instead he just pouts up at Cas and says, “Laugh it up, but I don’t put out to assholes.” 

“Interesting,” Cas says, “because I think I could laugh at you all night and you’d still do whatever I want.” 

“If I concede, do I get to make out with you for real? Finally?” 

“Yes. In bed.” 

“Fuck, that’s at least the third good thing I’ve heard tonight.” 

Dean has never been in Cas’s room before, but nothing about it surprises him: just more and more shelves of books, stacks of them on the floor even, and a big, comfortable bed. “Welcome to the place where my bed is,” Cas says, and nods to the bed in question. “After you.” 

Dean sits on the edge of the bed and then flops backward. “Damn, Cas,” he says, grinning. 

“Really? I’m going to be fighting a bed for your attentions?” 

“Not fighting.  _ Sharing _ my attentions.” 

“Move up,” Cas says, gesturing towards the head of the bed. 

Dean scoots towards the head of the bed and sits up on his elbows, staring at Cas. Cas stares right back, his eyes detailing Dean’s body through his clothing until Dean feels just about as naked as he ever has in someone’s bed. 

Cas knee-walks onto the bed and in between Dean’s legs, pausing only a moment before leaning down and kissing him. 

Dean expects the kiss to be different somehow, even more charged than the ones they normally share, but something about the inevitability of getting his hands on Cas calms him. Cas tastes really good, like cinnamon toothpaste and skin, and Dean’s breath catches at the first swipe of Cas’s tongue. 

Dean goes down all the way on his back and Cas follows without breaking the kiss, his body pressing down into the V of Dean’s hips, and one of Dean’s hands go to Cas’s hair while the other grabs his side to pull him even closer. Even just this, the weight of Cas bearing down on him, is novel, and Dean is determined to not miss a single moment of this. 

And to not fuck it up. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Cas says, so close they are still sharing air. 

“Am I?” 

“Yes. Relax. I know you’ve had sex before.” 

“Yeah, but,” Dean says. “Not with  _ you _ .” 

“I’m just like anyone else.” 

“No, I know. I just meant. You’re not like anyone else at all, not to me.” 

Cas makes a humming noise Dean’s not sure how to interpret and then they’re kissing again, tongues meeting between their open mouths. Dean grabs Cas’s hips to pull him even tighter, closer, and one of Cas’s hands goes to start on the buttons of Dean’s shirt, soft fingertips gliding across each newly revealed inch of skin. 

Dean slides his hand under Cas’s shirt, spanning the thick columns of muscle on either side of Cas’s spine, and even this small skin contact sends a jolt to Dean’s groin. Cas groans, lips starting a trek from a kiss at the corner of Dean’s mouth to over his jaw and down his neck. At first it’s just soft lips and tongue, and then Cas bites sharply, making Dean gasp and throw his head back. 

“You better not give me a hickey,” Dean says. 

“Oh, please,” Cas says. “You would love it if I did.” 

Fuck. Now Dean is imagining what it would be like to look in the mirror and find Cas’s marks on his skin. 

“Mmm, you really would,” Cas says, smirking. 

“Don’t tease me,” Dean says. 

“Or what?” Cas’s hand slides down Dean’s stomach to palm at where he’s quickly hardening in his jeans. “You’ll get harder?” 

Dean blushes and bites his lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise as Cas’s hand continues to rub at him. 

Cas pulls his hand away and sits back on his heels. “You better let me hear you.” 

“Yeah, ok, Cas. Ok.” 

Cas parts Dean’s shirt to reveal his chest and stomach. He seems to consider a moment, just  _ looking _ in a way that makes Dean squirm, and then he leans down and flicks his tongue across one of Dean’s nipples. 

Dean watched him do it but the sensation still surprises him and he sucks in a breath, eyes closing without his permission. “Much better,” Cas says, and open-mouth kisses his way to the other nipple, accentuating sweet licks with a quick bite. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dean says. 

Dean can feel Cas grin against him. With Cas’s mouth continuing to trail gently over Dean’s chest, Dean reaches for Cas’s t-shirt and tugs at the hem. “Can we take this off?” Dean says. 

Cas sits back and strips out of his shirt. Again, Dean says, “Oh, fuck.” 

Cas arches a singular eyebrow while Dean reaches out to touch, running his fingertips over the barely-curves of Cas’s clavicles and then his entire hand, flat-palmed, down Cas’s sternum and to the top of his jeans. 

“God, you’re hot,” Dean says.

“Sit up,” Cas says. “Shirt off.” 

Dean hurries to comply, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it on the floor to join Cas’s. Sitting up, he can grab Cas and steal another kiss, so he does, hands back to gripping Cas’s hips. 

Before Dean can get too lost in the kiss, Cas pushes him back down on the bed. Dean goes happily, watching as Cas’s eyes darken as Cas looks at him. 

“I can’t decide what to do to you first,” Cas says, starting to unbutton Dean’s jeans. Slowly, like they have all the time in the world. Which they do, Dean reminds himself. 

“I don’t get a say in that?” 

“No, you do not.” 

Dean laughs, breathless and  _ ridiculously _ turned on. “I’m at your mercy then.” 

“Yes, you are. You’ll definitely be coming on my cock before this is over with though,” Cas says, “so you have that to look forward to.” 

Cas strips off Dean’s jeans and boxers, one leg at a time, and stares down at him with that hungry expression again. Dean’s cock is rock hard, curving towards his stomach, liquid already beading at the tip. Dean’s hand twitches, wanting to touch himself, but he stops, just breathing hard under Cas’s eyes. 

Cas leans down to kiss Dean, long and slow and wet, then slides down his body with his mouth a breath away from Dean’s skin. Cas licks the crown of Dean’s dick clean, and Dean’s hands immediately go to his hair, fingers tightening but not quite pulling. 

Cas closes his eyes a moment like he’s savoring the taste of Dean, then open-mouth kisses his way from the tip of Dean’s cock to the base, using a lot of tongue on his balls, then mouths his way back upwards. As Cas starts to take Dean’s cock in his mouth, Dean whispers, “Yeah, yeah, like that.” 

Cas’s eyes are smiling as he glances up at Dean. He’s slow, swirling his tongue around the head before ducking down to take more, and Dean’s hands tug on his hair a little, trying to get him deeper. Cas hums -- in pleasure, Dean thinks -- as Dean’s cock hits the back of his throat. “Fuck,” Dean says, and when he pulls on Cas’s hair again, Cas relaxes and Dean can feel it all the way to his toes when he goes past that ring of muscle and into the velvet heat that is Cas’s throat. 

“God,” Dean says, “no one has ever --” and then Cas swallows, and his words are cut off by a moan. 

Cas hums again, then slides upward to take a deep breath before fucking his mouth back on Dean’s dick. Jesus, it’s good. Dean’s not sure exactly what Cas is doing that’s so different, but it’s definitely the best blow job he’s ever had. 

“Cas,” Dean says, “Cas, I’m going to come if you don’t stop.” 

Cas pulls off immediately, his mouth coming off the end of Dean’s dick with an obscene wet sound. For a moment there’s a string of saliva connecting Cas’s bottom lip to the tip of Dean’s cock and Dean loses himself staring at it before Cas wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Dean pulls Cas by the hair for a kiss, tastes himself on Cas’s tongue and moans against it. “That was -- Jesus,” Dean says, and kisses him again. 

Dean’s hands slide down Cas’s perfect form again to his jeans, undoing the belt and then the button and zipper. Without breaking the kiss, Dean slides his hands down the back of Cas’s pants and grabs his ass. It’s a really nice ass. 

With Dean’s help, Cas kicks out of his jeans and is left in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that hug his body beautifully. At first it’s a little disconcerting to be with a man with a distinct lack of bulge in the front of his underwear, but then Cas wraps his hand around Dean’s cock and all of Dean’s thoughts are gone. 

“Cas,” Dean moans, “I want -- I need --” 

“I know,” Cas says, smirking, as he presses a dry finger against Dean’s hole, just circling and teasing while he strokes his dick. 

Dean tugs at Cas’s underwear, starting to pull them over the curve of his ass, but Cas stills him with a hand. “Are you sure?” 

“That I want you naked?” The way Cas is looking at him is guarded, like he’s ready for any answer, but Dean is pretty sure if he gave the wrong one, he would never get another chance. Not that he wants to give the wrong answer anyway. Because, fuck, it’s  _ Cas _ . Dean has been dying to touch him for months and months. Instead of saying all that, Dean settles for, “Yeah, I’m sure,” and pulls Cas’s briefs down. 

Cas wiggles out of them, leaning down close enough to Dean to kiss the corner of his mouth. Dean’s eyes immediately rake up and down Cas’s gloriously naked body. He starts to slide his hand between Cas’s legs,  _ needing _ to know what it feels like to touch him, then pauses. “Show me?” 

“Yes,” Cas says, more of a harsh breath than a word, and Dean thrills to know Cas is affected by him. He wonders if Cas is wet, if Cas  _ gets _ wet, if he will ever have the chance to find out. 

While Dean watches, Cas slips his hand between his own legs and strokes his dick. Dean glances up at Cas’s face to find him biting his lip and watching Dean, but then Dean’s focus shifts back to the movement of his hand. It mostly looks just like touching any of the other cocks Dean has ever been near, but with fingers instead of fist. 

Dean pulls Cas’s hand away and replaces it with his own, exploring tender flesh with just his fingertips at first, and then he strokes with intent and is pleased when Cas hisses in a breath. “Yeah?” Dean says, looking at Cas’s face, his red bitten lips and then meeting his eyes. 

“Yes,” Cas says. 

Dean puts his other hand on the back of Cas’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss, then two, then more, growing sloppier the longer he touches Cas. He can feel Cas’s heartbeat racing under his hands and his breath harsh against Dean’s mouth. “Can I make you come, Cas? Tell me how.” 

“A little more,” Cas says. “A little harder.” 

Dean tightens his fingers, moves a little faster, and Cas moans into his mouth. “Like that?” Dean says, and Cas pants, “Yes.” 

Dean grins, pleased at the soft noises coming unbidden out of Cas’s throat, and tilts his chin down to watch the head of Cas’s cock disappearing and reappearing with each stroke. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Dean says. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a quick flash of surprise on Cas’s face, but it’s overtaken again by arousal almost instantly. 

It’s weird not to have a physical representation of orgasm, no come to lick off fingers, but there’s no question when Cas comes -- his entire body tenses then shudders and he groans Dean’s name low in his throat. Dean has never heard his own name sound better.

Dean keeps touching Cas through it, all the way until Cas grabs his hand and pulls it away, and then Cas goes slack over Dean, pressing their foreheads together and breathing hard. Dean tilts his chin to steal a quick kiss, but Cas is barely capable of returning it between deep, harsh breaths. Cas’s heart is still pounding. 

“Was that ok?” Dean says. 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says. “That was a lot better than ‘ok.’” 

Like it’s nearly impossible for him to do it, Cas gets his limbs moving and collapses on the bed next to Dean. Dean sits up on an elbow to look at him, taking in Cas’s glazed-over gaze, flushed chest, stomach rising and falling quickly with each breath. Dean puts a hand on Cas’s belly, circling his fingertips soothingly, but Cas grabs his hand and laces their fingers together instead. 

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Cas says once his breathing has slowed. 

“Touched a dick like yours? Pretty sure I would remember it.” 

Cas laughs and sits up a little to kiss Dean, soft and quick, then collapses back on the bed, eyes closing. “Give me a minute,” Cas says, “and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream.” 

Before he can think too much about it, Dean molds himself to Cas’s side, tucking his head under Cas’s chin. Dean’s cock is still hard and insistent against Cas’s hip, but Dean won’t die if he has to wait a little longer. 

“Do you know how many times you’ve told me you don’t cuddle?” Cas says, smiling. 

“Yeah, well. Are you complaining?” 

“Of course not,” Cas says, running his hand over Dean’s cheek. Dean nuzzles into the touch, kissing Cas’s palm. “Just commenting.” 

“I don’t need your commentary,” Dean says. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” 

“Christ, yes.” 

Still smiling, Cas slips out from under Dean and goes to dig through the bottom drawer of his dresser. Dean stares at his ass as he’s bent over, itching to touch, but instead he puts a hand on his own dick, jerking loosely. 

“Stop touching yourself,” Cas says when he turns around, and Dean pulls his hand away like he’s been burned. “Good.” 

Cas tosses a bottle of lube on the bed next to Dean. In his hands he has a black harness with a pale colored dick attached, and Dean stares with open curiosity as Cas steps into it.

When Cas glances up, Dean blushes and says, “Sorry. Should I not watch?” 

“It’s fine,” Cas says, tugging on straps until the harness sits snug around his thighs and hips. Dean can’t take his eyes off of him. 

Dean spreads his legs in invitation and Cas joins him back on the bed. Smirking at Dean, he leans down and suckles at the head of Dean’s cock until he’s achingly hard again, then grabs the lube from the bed and slicks up his fingers. 

“I’m going to finger you with my  _ pretty _ hands,” Cas says. 

“Hey, they are pretty.” 

Cas kisses the inside of Dean’s knee and then slides a finger into him without any particular amount of warning. Dean gasps, then takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax around the intrusion. Cas pumps it in and out of him a few times, gaze moving between watching Dean’s hole and watching Dean’s face, and Dean says, “More.” 

Cas arches an eyebrow and Dean blushes. Again. Cas does that to him. “You didn’t even ask nicely,” Cas says, “but I’m going to forgive you this time.” 

Cas adds a second finger, crooks them to rub his fingertips against Dean’s prostate, and Dean whines while his hips arch off the bed without his permission. “Please, Cas.” 

“Please what?” 

“Fuck me, please.”

“You’re so impatient.” 

“Yeah, I -- fuck -- been waiting a long time for you --” 

Cas adds another finger and Dean whines again, gripping the sheets with steel fists. “If you already sound like this,” Cas says, “what are you going to sound like when you actually have a cock in you?” 

“I don’t know,” Dean says, trying to ride down on Cas’s fingers. “Why don’t you find out?” 

Cas grins, feral and fierce, and pulls his fingers out of Dean to slick up his cock. Dean watches with dark eyes, spreads his legs wider, parts his lips. Dean’s dick twitches as he watches Cas settle between his legs, guiding his cock to Dean’s hole and starting to push in. 

He’s so fucking  _ slow _ about it. Dean tries to shove his hips downwards, but Cas shifts away from him and puts a hand on his ribs to hold him still. “Relax,” Cas says, and Dean stills. 

Slowly, the first two inches of Cas’s cock breach the rim of Dean’s hole. Dean gasps and reaches for Cas, trying to get him closer, trying to get him to fill Dean up like Dean wants, but Cas resists. It seems like forever until Cas is fully seated into Dean, until Dean can feel O-rings pressed up against his thighs. 

Cas leans down and kisses Dean, stealing his breath with clever lips and tongue. Dean wraps his arm around Cas’s shoulders, the other hand going down to grip his ass and urge him even deeper. 

Cas slides out, still slow and careful, and then back in, so Dean can feel every inch filling him up. “God,” Dean whispers, “you had to pick a big one, didn’t you?” 

“You like it,” Cas murmurs back, smirking against Dean’s ear. 

“Fuck, yes,” Dean says, “fuck.” 

Cas starts to fuck him, still tauntingly slow but at least letting Dean ride back down onto him, tilting his hips to take every thrust. 

With his hand on Cas’s back, Dean can feel every flex of muscle under tan, ridiculously smooth skin, and his cock is trapped between their two stomachs, and Cas is fucking him slowly but surely, and then Cas is  _ kissing _ him, and Dean is thoroughly overwhelmed. “Cas,” he whimpers, then again, “Cas, Cas.” 

“You’re ok,” Cas says. 

“Harder, please.” 

Cas tucks his head against Dean’s neck and bites him at the same time he fucks forward  _ hard _ . Dean moans and throws his head back, fingers scrambling to gain purchase on Cas’s soft skin. Cas starts biting and sucking at Dean’s neck while he sets a savage pace with his hips, slamming deep into Dean until Dean is a moaning, writhing mess. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Dean says, hand going to Cas’s hair to hold him against Dean’s neck. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Cas says, and then pumps into him even harder than Dean thought would be possible. 

Dean’s back bows and his cock is leaking steadily and he’s crying out with abandon, and Cas hasn’t even tried to find his sweet spot yet. Just as the thought occurs to Dean, Cas grabs his hips with ridiculously strong hands and pulls Dean half into his lap. The next stroke hits Dean in the place that makes him see stars and he practically yells Cas’s name, reaching back to grab onto the headboard for something to ground him. 

Cas grins, and he looks fucking beautiful, sweat dampening his hair and making his skin glisten, his arms flexing as he holds Dean in place. “I’m not stopping until you scream,” Cas says. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dean says. “Fuck, fuck -- Cas --!” 

“Close,” Cas says, and pauses for a moment just to grind the head of his cock against Dean’s prostate. 

Dean can barely make words, but he reaches for Cas’s hair again and says, “Kiss me.” 

Cas’s smile softens and he leans down, never pausing the rolling of his hips even as he takes Dean’s mouth. It’s so fucking good, Cas’s tongue in his mouth, Cas’s dick starting to fuck him again, hard and deep, and Dean lets go in a way he’s never able to with other partners, noises he didn’t know existed inside him bursting from his throat. 

“There you go,” Cas whispers against his cheek, and he reaches down to wrap his hand around Dean’s cock. “Are you going to come for me, Dean?” 

“Yes -- fuck -- yes --” 

“Good,” Cas says, and he goes back to bite at Dean’s neck and fist his cock and fuck into him, and Dean -- as if from very far away -- is kind of amazed at Cas’s coordination, and then Dean’s vision starts to go white. 

Dean closes his eyes, fucks up into Cas’s hand and down onto his dick, and then he’s coming with what can only be described as a shout. Cas stops with his hand pretty quickly, but grinds his cock deep and dirty in Dean, making Dean’s cock spurt several more times before his orgasm finally finishes passing through him. 

Dean goes limp and Cas pulls out of him just as slowly as he went in, leaving Dean empty and aching. While Dean is still gasping, Cas fiddles with some straps and his harness ends up on the floor before he grabs Dean and pulls him against his chest, mess of come be damned. 

Dean can’t think or breathe or function as a human at all, his veins still buzzing with orgasm, but he still manages to cling to Cas and press his face into Cas’s skin. After long, quiet minutes, Cas says, voice deep in the silence, “Are you ok?” 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean mumbles. “‘m great.” 

Cas touches Dean’s chin and tilts it upward for a kiss, Cas’s tongue gliding gently alongside Dean’s. “You don’t feel weird about it?” Cas says. 

“Cas,” Dean says, his words still slurring a little bit. “I feel weird that no one has ever made me come that good in my life. How I’ve survived this long without it. Without you.” 

Cas kisses Dean’s forehead, rests his mouth there for a moment, then says, “Hang on. I’m going to get you cleaned up.” 

Cas comes back to bed with a washcloth and wipes Dean down. Dean is still boneless so he mostly just watches, enjoying the lines of muscle under Cas’s skin, the wiry hairs leading down from his navel downwards, the gentle look on his face. 

Dean reaches for Cas before Cas is even back in the bed, and he ends up back in Cas’s arms, his head pillowed on Cas’s shoulder. Carefully, Dean traces the long horizontal scars a few inches below his nipples. “Did it hurt?” 

Cas turns to kiss Dean’s forehead again. “It could’ve been worse.” 

Dean nods, then lays his hand flat over Cas’s heart. “Thank you for trusting me,” Dean says. 

“Thank you for being worth trusting.” 

Dean falls asleep smiling. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Cas raises an eyebrow. “I licked your ass this morning, Dean. I think I can show you my fake dick.”_

Dean wakes up to Cas molded against his back, mouth pressed to the back of Dean’s neck and fingertips trailing up and down his stomach. “Hey,” Dean says, voice rough. 

“Good morning,” Cas says, smiling into Dean’s skin. “How are you feeling?” 

Dean arches his body a little, pop-pop-pop cracking up his back, and then relaxes back into Cas. “A little sore after some fucking awesome sex last night.” 

“Is that why you’re hard already?” Cas says, sliding his hand down Dean’s cock to roll Dean’s balls in his palm. 

“Shit, Cas,” Dean says, leaning his head back on Cas’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you do anything without coffee.” 

“You’re the exception,” Cas says. “I’ll do you any time.” 

Dean laughs but it cuts off as Cas pulls a couple times at his cock. 

“Roll over on your stomach,” Cas says. 

Dean does, crossing his arms underneath his head and sighing sleepily. “Gonna fuck me again, Cas?” 

“No,” Cas says, settling between Dean’s legs. “You said you were sore.” 

“Not  _ too _ sore.” 

“We can discuss that again later,” Cas says, and Dean grins at the promise in his voice. “For now…” Cas trails off, instead using his mouth to kiss and suck gently along the back of Dean’s shoulder. Dean shivers under the touch, and then shivers harder as Cas starts to kiss his way down Dean’s spine. 

“Are you going to…?” Dean says, heart rate picking up. 

“Am I going to fuck you with my tongue instead? I was planning on it, unless you have objections.” 

“No, um, no objections.” 

Cas nips at Dean’s flank, then pauses to bite and suck until Dean is pretty sure he’ll have a bruise blossoming there before long. “You like marks to show that you’re mine,” Cas says, and Dean whines. “You’re so beautifully  _ needy _ .” 

“It’s ok, though,” Cas continues, “because I like making you mine. This way no one else gets to touch you without knowing.”

“Don’t want anyone else to touch me,” Dean says. 

“Good,” Cas says. 

Cas kisses the small of Dean’s back, then gently spreads Dean’s cheeks just to look at him. 

“Oh,” Cas says, “you look sore. Was I too rough?” 

“God, no,” Dean says. “I don’t think you could ever be too rough with me.” 

“Hmm,” Cas says. “We’ll see about that.” 

Dean isn’t sure what kind of filthy thoughts are going on in Cas’s mind, but he’s pretty sure he would be really, really into whatever it is. Anything that gets Cas’s hands on him. 

Cas brushes his thumb over Dean’s hole, then leans down and presses an open kiss to the abused flesh. Dean whimpers at the first press of hot, wet tongue, and Cas circles the rim before barely dipping into the pucker. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispers, his hips canting backwards for more. 

Cas’s hands squeeze and knead Dean’s ass while just the tip of his tongue explores Dean, barely-there touches that make Dean say, “More, more.” 

Cas gives a good, long lick, pressing close so Dean can feel the rough catch of stubble between his cheeks, and then he goes back to smaller kitten licks, just teasing. Dean stops begging and accepts his fate, sinking back down into the bed and unclenching his hands from the sheets. His cock is incredibly hard between his belly and soft sheets but he doesn’t let himself grind forward into the bed or backwards into Cas’s mouth, determined to just take whatever torture Cas has planned for him. 

It’s not long, though, before Cas starts licking for real, using the long, flat of his tongue, just barely pushing inside every few strokes. “Cas,” Dean gasps, and Cas squeezes his ass again. “Cas, I want -- I want --” 

“Use your words, Dean.” 

“Inside me, please, fuck.” 

“Like this?” Cas says, and he pulls Dean’s cheeks further apart and then his tongue, stiff, pushes into Dean’s hole.

Dean gasps and his hips move again, trying to get Cas’s tongue deeper, but Cas’s hands hold him still. Cas starts to fuck his tongue in and out of Dean, lips creating delicious suction around the rim of his hole, and Dean just loses himself in it with no concept of time passing, just white-hot pleasure rippling under his skin. 

But it’s not long enough before Cas pulls back, and Dean keens at the loss. “Dean,” Cas says, “on your knees. Touch yourself for me.” 

Dean’s thighs are trembling but he manages to get up on his knees anyway, face still pressed into the mattress, and wraps a hand around his cock. 

“I’m going to keep fucking you with my tongue and you’re going to make yourself come. Ok?” 

Shakily, Dean says, “Ok.” 

Cas scratches his nails down the back of Dean’s thighs before spreading him open again and shoving his tongue into Dean’s hole. Dean gasps and starts fisting his cock to the same rhythm as Cas’s tongue is working in him, his whole body tightening. 

“Cas -- close, Cas --” 

Cas’s tongue goes deeper and he hums and, groaning, Dean comes all over his hand. Cas keeps licking against Dean’s fluttering muscle for another minute, until Dean’s breathing starts to even out, and then he pulls away. 

“Fuck,” Dean says, collapsing onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes, but he has to peek again when Cas grabs his other hand and starts sucking come off his fingers. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean says. 

Cas gives him a coy look from under his eyelashes before leaning down to kiss the corner of Dean’s lips. Dean turns his head for a real kiss, draws Cas’s tongue into his mouth and strokes against it until Cas moans. When they part, both of them are smiling. 

“What can I do for you?” Dean says. “What do you want? Anything.” 

“Sexually? Nothing. I would probably kill for some coffee, though.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Cas frowns a little and says, “Yes.” 

“Hey,” Dean says. “What’s that face for? Was I -- did I not do it right?” 

“Dean, not everything is about you.” Cas softens the words by kissing his forehead, then slides out of bed. “I’m going to take a shower really quick if you want to start some coffee.” 

Dean follows him into the bathroom to clean up and brush his teeth, only glancing at Cas’s body in the shower occasionally. Cas looks  _ really _ good with water dripping out of his hair and over the planes of his back. Not that Cas doesn’t always look really good. 

Dean is fucking smitten, he realizes as he spits into the sink, and just as quickly realizes that he doesn’t care at all.

 

Dean makes coffee in his boxers and has just poured two mismatched mugs when Cas, fully dressed, joins him in the tiny kitchen. Dean’s eyes pass over Cas’s body without even thinking about it, pause, and then he jerks them away, hoping not to be caught out. 

Cas takes one of the mugs from Dean’s hands and says, “It’s fake. Obviously.” 

Dean blushes. “I wasn’t --” 

“You were.” 

“Shit. I’m sorry.” 

Cas shrugs, though his shoulders look a little tense, and he takes a sip of coffee. “Sidenote: How do you make better coffee than I do with the same machine and the same grinds?” 

“I’ve got a magic touch,” Dean says. 

“Did you spit in it?” 

“I’ll never tell.” 

Cas takes another sip and then sets the mug on the counter, shoulders tensing more. “Back to the topic at hand,” he says. “Do you want to be with me?” 

“Uh,” Dean says. “Were we talking about that? I mean, of course I want to be with you.” 

“Then you’re going to have to learn all of this eventually, so you might as well ask.” 

Dean bites at his lip, then says, “It’s a, um, what’s it called? A packer?” 

“Yes.” 

“Can I see it? Or is that, like, personal?” 

Cas raises an eyebrow. “I licked your ass this morning, Dean. I think I can show you my fake dick.” 

Dean watches Cas’s hands as he undoes his jeans and pulls them and his garish orange underwear down to his thighs. 

“Ok,” Dean says, “what’s with the orange? That’s not even Longhorns orange.” 

“This is Aggieland,” Cas says. 

“Secondly,” Dean says, eyeing the elastic strap sitting low on Cas’s hips, “is that uncomfortable?” 

“Rarely.” 

“Are they all uncut or did you have a choice?” 

“I had a choice.” 

“Can I touch it?” 

“Yes.” 

Even knowing it’s not flesh and blood, Dean still has the urge to be gentle, running his fingertips over it and then cupping it in his palm. “Cool.” 

Cas laughs as he pulls his pants back up. “‘Cool’?” 

“I mean, it’s cool, right? That you can get stuff like that?” 

“It’s a lot better than rolled up socks, so there is that.” 

Dean backs Cas up into the counter, taking a kiss. “I was going to make breakfast and then we could fuck all day, but as usual, you have no food. So we’re going to have to go out. I don’t know about you, but I don’t fuck hungry.” 

“You are a whiny infant when you’re hungry,” Cas says. “I already called and had us added to the list nearby. Put some pants on and we’ll go.” 

  
They don’t end up fucking more at all. Breakfast is good, and then Cas drags Dean to a farmer’s market where they hold hands and Dean steals a kiss (or maybe three), and then they end up on the couch with Dean’s head on Cas’s lap and he only falls asleep a little bit as Cas’s hands run through his hair. It’s pretty much a perfect day for their first spent completely together. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __**Dean** : Charlie wants to meet you  
> 

**Cas:** Dean, please don’t out me to any of your friends. I don’t tell people unless I’m sleeping with them.

**Dean:** I haven’t told anyone

**Cas:** Thank you.

 

**Dean:** So Cas and I were taking it slow on the sex thing. But we finally did it and… holy jesus fucking christ

**Charlie:** 1) TAKING IT SLOW??????? 2) That’s what I like to hear!

**Dean:** Yeah kind of trying a new thing. I don’t want to fuck this up

**Charlie:** Awww. That’s adorable.   
**Charlie:** When do I get to meet this man of your dreams?

**Dean:** Basically never because you will ruin this for me

**Charlie:** Ha! Let’s do a game night next weekend!

**Dean:** Maybe

 

**Dean:** Charlie wants to meet you

**Cas:** Oh? You want me to meet your friends?

**Dean:** Of course I want you to meet my friends. You’re in my life and so are they   
**Dean:** Not that I have a lot of friends to meet or anything   
**Dean:** Do you still talk to friends from GA?

**Cas:** I don’t have any friends left there.

**Dean:** I’m sorry Cas, that sucks   
**Dean:** Charlie wants to do a game night this weekend   
**Dean:** Friday night probably?   
**Dean:** You could spend the weekend here. If you wanted. That might be too much of me to handle tho

**Cas:** You only text that many times in a row when you’re nervous. Why are you nervous?

**Dean:** I’m scared of fucking this up with you   
**Dean:** If you stay all weekend maybe you’ll find out that I’m not whatever you think I am

**Cas:** You are wonderful, and I don’t think a couple days with you are going to change my mind about that.

 

**Dean:** Stupid question. But was the sex like ok?

**Cas:** Yes, Dean. Did it not seem ok?

**Dean:** It was really fucking good for me. REALLY fucking good

**Cas:** It was really fucking good for me too. The sounds you make…

**Dean:** Don’t talk about that

**Cas:** I told you I was going to make you scream. Are you embarrassed?

**Dean:** A little   
**Dean:** I just feel like I didn’t do enough for you

**Cas:** You did plenty.   
**Cas:** I hate when you doubt yourself.

 

Friday night, Cas drives down to Dean’s little duplex on the north side. Dean greets him with a lingering kiss, open mouths and slick tongues, and Cas presses close and grinds against Dean’s hips a little, just a tease.

“Keep doing that and we’ll never get anywhere,” Dean says, nibbling gently at Cas’s ear.

“We’ll have time later,” Cas says.

“Really? I get to get you naked again?” Dean grins, suddenly completely ready for game night to be over, even though he was looking forward to it an hour before.

“If you want.”

“Oh, I want. I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

Cas smiles, then holds up a bottle. “I brought wine.”

“We’re going to be drinking more than wine, I suspect,” Dean says.

“You haven’t been drinking much lately.”

“I’ll take it easy, I promise. But I told Charlie tequila is required for our guest.”

Cas laughs, and it’s one of Dean’s favorite sounds in the world. “I haven’t had tequila in months.”

“I’ve never seen you drunk. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Let’s go then.”

 

Charlie looks adorable in a “you can’t take the sky from me” t-shirt and Dorothy looks terrifying as usual, though they both throw their arms around Dean as soon as Dean and Cas arrive, then Charlie grabs Cas by the shoulders and holds him at arm’s length, staring at him intensely.

"Mayo or Miracle Whip?"

Cas goes distinctly squinty-eyed. "Mayo," he replies.

"Moral alignment?"

"Neutral good."

"Hogwarts House?"

A somewhat wicked smile flickers at Cas's mouth, there and gone. "Slytherin."

Charlie continues to stare Cas down. Cas, gamely, stares right back. “Are you good enough for Dean?”

Cas glances at Dean and then back at Charlie. “I sure hope so,” he says gravely.

“Well, you are definitely a cutie, so that’s a win.”

“Thank you.”

“Stop scaring him,” Dean says.

“I’m going to hug you now,” Charlie says, ignoring Dean, and wraps her arms around Cas’s middle.

Cas stands stiffly, then uncertainly returns the hug.

“So I heard you like tequila, but I’ve got fireball too. It is tradition to start with a round of shots,” Charlie says.

“Ugh, fireball,” Dorothy says.

“Fireball for me,” Dean says.

They all end up in Charlie and Dorothy’s kitchen, much bigger than either Dean or Cas’s, and Charlie sets up the shots. “Bottom’s up,” Dean says, and they all drink.

They set up a game of Ticket to Ride, which Cas picks up quickly and promptly kicks everyone’s ass, even as he starts to get tipsy on a few more shots. He’s adorable and touchy, running his fingers through Dean’s hair every time he gets up, poking at Charlie when he derails her tracks, grabbing Dean’s knee when he laughs, head thrown back with joy, leaning over to kiss Dean’s cheek.

“God, you two are cute,” Charlie says, like she’s not getting tactile with Dorothy, too, arm wrapped around her middle and head falling on her shoulder in between turns.

Another game and a few more shots for Cas, and he’s clearly flagging. “I better take this one home,” Dean says.

“Mmm, home,” Cas says, making doe eyes at Dean.

“C’mon,” Dean says, grabbing Cas’s hands to pull him up from the couch.

“I’m having fun,” Cas says, whining a little, something Dean has never heard from him.

“I know you are, sweetheart, but if you keep going, you’re going to have a massive hangover in the morning.”

“Fine,” Cas says, and shakes Charlie and Dorothy’s hands in turn. “It was a pleasure to met you both.”

Everyone laughs and Charlie ends up pulling Cas into another hug. “You’ll do,” she says.

“I like Dean very much,” Cas replies. “I’m happy to have your approval.”

Dean blushes and wraps his arm around Cas’s middle. “Come on, let’s go home before you get weirder.”

 

Back at Dean’s place -- certainly not _home_ for both of them, Dean has to remind himself -- Dean makes Cas drink a full glass of water and then helps him out of his clothes. Dean’s not quite used to the transition, Cas in clothes with a packer versus Cas without clothes with a different kind of dick all together, but he’s happy to have Cas naked and pressed up against him.

In bed, Cas kisses Dean’s neck softly and his fingers dance under the elastic of Dean’s boxers, tracing a hipbone and then sliding downward to stroke the hair running to Dean’s cock. Dean just basks in it for a minute, these tiny touches he never got to experience before, and then he pulls Cas’s hand out of his boxers.

“Hon, you’re really drunk,” Dean says.

“Wanna touch you,” Cas says, biting at Dean’s neck, making Dean shiver and his cock perk up.

“Not when you’ve been drinking like this. You can wait until tomorrow.”

“Can’t,” Cas says, grabbing Dean’s face roughly and pulling him in for a kiss, tonguing sloppily against Dean’s lips.

“We waited for months. I’m sure you can handle one more day,” Dean says.

Cas sighs softly, kisses Dean’s chin. “I was afraid,” Cas says, “if I told you… I just wanted to keep you.”

“What if I had left? Wouldn’t it have been worse?”

“Yes. But I was so selfish. I thought maybe I could just. I don’t know, never have to tell you. That I could just keep pretending.”

“I think you know you’re not pretending,” Dean says, pulling Cas tighter. “I know you aren’t.”

“And now…”

“Now what?”

Cas sighs again. “I don’t know. It’s never felt like this.”

“Not for me either. You’re different for me.”

“I just want to keep you.”

Dean smiles and gives Cas a sweet, quick kiss. “I want to keep you, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I don’t like being reminded that I’m not what you really want.”_

Dean is up first, so he tracks down some Aleve and makes Cas a glass of water and leaves both by the bed. Cas doesn’t get up until ten, by the time Dean is nursing his third cup of coffee with his computer in his lap. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, voice low and gravelly. He rubs at his eyes and looks pretty grumpy, though he does lean down and kiss the top of Dean’s head before going to the kitchen to start a fresh pot of coffee. He’s in the ugly orange underwear again with the packer underneath, and Dean thinks this means something, that he’s wearing it even while mostly naked and it’s only Dean, but he’s not sure what. 

Dean follows him to the kitchen, slides up behind him and wraps his arms around his middle, hands flat on his belly. “How you feeling? Did you take some Aleve?” 

“Yes, thank you. I don’t feel as badly as I expected.” 

“You just always look cranky in the mornings?” 

Cas laughs and turns his head to kiss Dean. “Yes, I suppose so. Mornings are not my forte.” 

“Let’s get some coffee in you then. And I’m going to make pancakes, so move out of the way.” 

 

Cas loves Dean’s pancakes. He moans appreciatively around the first bite and goes through far more than Dean thought a single person could. 

“I could get really fat on your food,” Cas says. 

“Good. I like feeding you.” 

“What are we doing today?” 

“Making out. Getting you naked so I can do terrible things to you. Maybe eat again sometime. But mostly the making out and terrible things.” 

Cas doesn’t say anything, so Dean says hurriedly, “Unless you don’t want to.” 

“I did last night, didn’t I?” 

Dean laughs. “I wasn’t sure you would even remember what happened last night.” 

“I have some memories of saying embarrassing things.” 

“There wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about,” Dean says. 

“I’m sorry I laid some angst on you.” 

“It’s ok,” Dean says. “Really. That’s what I’m here for. It’s not like I haven’t been stupidly pathetic to you over text or whatever. You, um, got me through some really rough times last summer.” 

“I’m glad,” Cas says with a smile, “that I was able to be there.” 

“Let me take you back to bed.” 

 

Cas sits on the edge of Dean’s bed and Dean immediately climbs into his lap, starting with a soft kiss that grows hotter as Cas grabs his hips and urges Dean to grind against him. “Fuck, you turn me on,” Dean says as he goes to leave wet kisses down Cas’s neck. 

“I noticed,” Cas says, wrapping his hand around Dean’s cock through his boxers. “Dean, do you like to be on top?” 

“Like, ride you? God, yes.” 

“Good. You’re going to fuck yourself on my dick just like you like it.” 

“You brought it?” 

“I was optimistic.” 

Dean grins and bites at a spot on Cas’s shoulder that must be particularly sensitive because Cas gasps and grips Dean tighter. 

“Well, get off me then,” Cas says. 

“Really? Right now?” 

“First I’m going to watch you finger yourself open. I want to see how you touch yourself when you’re alone.” 

“But you’re here now,” Dean says, digging around for the lube. 

“Are you arguing?” Cas says, raising one eyebrow.

Dean blushes deep and says, “No.” 

Dean wiggles out of his boxers and lays back. Cas leans over to kiss him, lots of tongue, and then settles at the end of the bed to stare at Dean with those intense eyes. Dean’s still blushing.

“Don’t be shy,” Cas says, eyes softening. 

“I’m not,” Dean says, because he is a liar. 

Glad for an excuse to look away from Cas, Dean slicks up his fingers and slides his hand between his legs. He’s usually fast and dirty about it, not caring that it hurts, but Cas is watching so he takes a moment to just circle his hole with his middle finger, his other hand gripping the base of his cock tight. 

“That’s not how you do it when you’re alone,” Cas says. “I know you.” 

Dean glances up from under his eyelashes. “How do I do it then?” 

“Rough. You don’t draw it out. You were too far gone when I did, like you’re not used to being touched that way.” 

Dean bites his lip and slides his middle finger in to the knuckle, adds a second after just a moment’s adjustment. 

“Like that,” Cas says, and he sounds approving in a way that Dean feels all the way into his marrow. “I don’t want you to come until I’m inside you, but you can touch your cock if you need to.” 

Dean fucks roughly into himself, shifting to find the angle where he can curve his fingers and find the sweet spot inside of him, eyes closing and breath speeding up. Cas’s eyes on him have him so hard he feels ready to fall over the edge into orgasm at any moment, even with his other hand just stroking his cock shallow and loose. 

“Just two?” Cas says, teasing. 

Dean shakes his head and adds a third finger. It’s nowhere near as big as Cas but he relishes in the touch all the same. He’s done this every night for the last week, chasing the feeling of Cas in him, and it’s still not enough. 

He feels Cas approach him on the bed, hears the cap pop open on the bottle of lube, but doesn’t open his eyes or stop fingering himself. Cas didn’t tell him he could. 

Dean’s eyes fly open, though, when Cas pulls Dean’s hand away and replaces it with three of his own fingers, going deep and rough immediately. Dean’s teeth let go of his lip and he moans, staring at Cas all the way until Cas leans down to kiss him, a careful touch of lips and tongue to contrast the harsh movement of his hand. 

“I could do this to you all day,” Cas says against Dean’s mouth. “Not let you come, not fill you up like you want, make you beg for it.” 

“Please, Cas,” Dean gasps. “Please.” 

“Do you just want it? Or do you need it?” 

“Need you.” 

Cas crooks his fingers and  _ rubs _ , and pre-come spurts out of the tip of Dean’s cock, feeling like half an orgasm on its own. 

“Ok,” Cas says, withdrawing his fingers. “Finger yourself again while I get ready.” 

Dean’s fingers go back into his open hole. “Can I watch?” 

Cas pauses before saying, “Yes.” 

Dean stares at Cas while he repeats the same ritual as before, the harness sitting snug around his hips and thighs. “You don’t like me watching,” Dean says softly. 

“I don’t like being reminded that I’m not what you really want.” 

“Of course you are,” Dean says, reaching his free hand out for Cas. 

Cas’s eyes move slowly down Dean’s body, taking him in while Dean flushes under the scrutiny. “You can stop now,” Cas says. He comes close enough for Dean to grab him and drag him in, sit up to kiss just below his belly button where he’s just a little softer than everywhere else. 

Cas sits against the headboard and liberally applies lube while Dean watches, licking his lips. Cas’s hands wrapped around any kind of dick could never be anything but ridiculously hot. 

Cas gestures to it, says, “Get on me.” 

Dean absolutely does not hurry. He is smooth and calm and takes Cas in slowly. 

Except he doesn’t. He’s clumsy throwing his leg over Cas’s lap and over-eager guiding Cas’s cock to his hole, and he sinks down on it all at once, takes the girth and length so it burns. “Oh, god,” Dean says, rocking his hips to take it even deeper. 

Cas grins, showing his teeth, and a hand goes into Dean’s hair to tug him into a kiss. “Pull harder,” Dean gasps against him, starting to roll his hips up and down. 

Cas doesn’t disappoint, jerking Dean’s head back by the hair to bare Dean’s throat and run his teeth down Dean’s neck. “You like it so rough,” Cas says. 

“Yeah,” Dean says, tensing his thighs to move upward until just the tip of Cas’s cock is breaching him, then slamming back down hard enough he loses his breath. 

On the next stroke, Cas moans along with him, and when Dean looks down, Cas’s eyes are wide and a little hazy like he can feel Dean hot and tight around him. And he looks a little awed, too, staring up at Dean. 

“Cas,” Dean whispers, leaning down to kiss him. It’s a little sloppy as Dean keeps riding Cas, but it’s also a little perfect, lighting Dean up from the inside out. 

Dean closes his eyes like it can make him stop feeling so intensely  _ affectionate _ in this middle of riding his boyfriend’s dick. His thighs are starting to burn and pre-come is smeared all over between them but neither of them reach for Dean’s cock. 

Dean presses closer towards Cas, wrapping arms around his shoulders, and pauses the up-and-down motion of his legs to just grind, arching until he can find the right angle. When Cas’s cock presses against his prostate, Dean lets a high-pitched whine out of his throat, a sound he’ll be embarrassed about later, but it makes Cas groan in response and that’s pretty worth it. 

Cas’s arms wrap around Dean, hands clawing at his back, pulling him as close as possible as Dean starts to fuck himself on Cas’s cock again. “More,” Dean says in response to the nails pressing into his flexing back muscles. Somehow Cas knows what he means and digs his nails in harder, scraping them down and then up. Dean hopes it’s enough to leave marks. 

Cas manages to get a hand around Dean’s cock pressed between them and strokes, twisting his wrist at the head and smiling when Dean moans over and over. “Are you going to come, Dean?” Cas says. “For me?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, pressing his face into Cas’s hair. “So close.” 

“You look amazing like this,” Cas says, voice breaking. 

“You -- fuck, Cas -- you’re amazing.” 

Cas bites his neck, hard, and Dean is coming, hard, crying out long and loud into Cas’s hair.

Dean’s hips mostly still, though he still gives a little grind every now and then while they both pant. They are both slick with sweat and come and still, Dean wants this moment forever. 

“You liked that so much,” Cas murmurs against his neck. “You came so hard for me.” 

Dean nods, not even entirely sure what he’s agreeing to with most of his brain still gone. 

“Here,” Cas says, “off.” He holds Dean by the hips and helps him come out of Cas’s lap, collapsing next to him. 

Dean’s legs are shaking and he can’t catch his breath and he can’t stop looking at Cas. Dean reaches for him, pulling him down into a long kiss that Cas returns with a sweet tongue. 

“Cas,” Dean says, hoping it’s enough for Cas to feel what Dean is feeling, what Dean is overwhelmed with. 

“I know, baby,” Cas says. He strokes his hand over Dean’s cheek and Dean leans into the touch, eyes drifting closed. 

Cas’s hands leave Dean for only a moment to remove the harness, tossing it towards his duffle bag, and then his arms are wrapped around Dean and he pulls him close. “Cas,” Dean says again, pressing a wet kiss to the base of his throat. 

“Shh,” Cas says, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

 

Cas fucks Dean again later that night, and in the morning fingers and strokes him in the shower until he’s weak-kneed and leaning up against the wall for support. Every time Dean reaches for Cas’s cock, Cas pulls his hand away and says, “I’m fine,” but Dean is pretty sure Cas does something like coming when he fucks Dean Sunday afternoon, because Cas gasps and moans and says Dean’s name over and over, a breathy, beautiful thing. 

 

**Cas:** Remember when I said you were wonderful and a weekend with you wasn’t going to change my mind? My mind is not changed. In fact, I now find you even more wonderful. 

**Dean:** God I don’t deserve you 

**Cas:** You deserve the world. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Tell me,” Cas says, twisting harder. “You like it when it hurts?”_

**Sam:** Jess and I want to come down for Christmas. Got a pull-out couch we can stay on? 

**Dean:** Awesome dude, of course. When are you coming? I’ll try to get some extra days off

**Sam:** We can come down the day before Xmas and stay until New Year’s. We’ll probably start to smell like fish by then, but I need some time with my asshole brother.    
**Sam:** And we’ve got something to tell you. 

Dean immediately knows what it is, but he doesn’t want to ruin Sam’s surprise, so he stays quiet.

**Sam:** And I have to meet this guy of yours. Charlie said he’s cool, but I don’t fully trust her. 

**Dean:** Don’t interrogate him. I really like him 

 

**Dean:** Hey, will you call when you get a minute? 

**Cas:** Sure. Are you ok? 

**Dean:** Yeah just miss you 

**Cas:** Sweet boy. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Cas,” Dean says, suddenly smiling. “How are you? How was your day?” 

“It was a rough one. One of my students is having a lot of trouble at home. Honestly I suspect he may be being abused, but he’ll never say it. I want to help him but don’t know how, and he’s just so disruptive in class.”

“Oh,” Dean says, thinking suddenly of John, the first time he’s thought about John or his childhood in awhile. “Fuck, Cas, that’s… that must be hard.” 

Cas is quiet for a minute and then says, “You can relate.” 

“What? You think my dad abused me?” 

“You told me he hit you.” 

“Just every now and then,” Dean says. “Wait, why are we talking about me? I was trying to talk about you.” 

Cas laughs. “No, let’s talk about you. Let’s talk about how much I adore you.” 

“Cas,” Dean says, but he can’t help grinning again. 

“Let’s talk about how much I enjoyed spending the weekend with you. Meeting your friends. Fucking you over and over. How much you loved it.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says. “But you wouldn’t let me touch you.” 

Cas pauses. “To be frank, I’ve been experiencing a lot of dysphoria since we met. It’s not your fault and I’m not sure where it’s coming from, but it’s there.” 

“Like, you hate your body more?” 

“Essentially.” 

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” Dean says, “but I love your body.” 

Cas pauses again, then says quietly, “Thank you, Dean.” 

“I touch myself thinking about you, wondering what you would taste like.” 

“Dean,” Cas says, almost a warning, but it’s a little breathy. 

“Is that ok?” 

It takes a long time before Cas says, “Yes.” 

“I want to make you feel good like you make me feel good.” 

Cas laughs. “Did you call me because you want to fuck over the phone?” 

Dean blushes. Cas can probably hear it, or at least expects it. “Maybe.” 

“Are you wearing clothes?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to fix that?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says. He puts Cas on speaker and fumbles with his jeans and boxers, pulling them completely off, leaving him half-naked on the couch with Dr. Sexy playing in the background.

“Tell me about what you want to do to me. You can touch yourself.” 

“I -- you said maybe I could fuck you. Do you like it in the ass or the other?” 

Quiet long enough that Dean thinks he’s probably said the wrong thing. “It depends,” Cas says. “Either, sometimes.” 

“Do you… do you get wet? Is it ok to ask?” 

“Yes.” 

Dean closes his eyes and grips his quickly hardening cock, giving a few harsh strokes. “I think about it. Being inside you. However you want.” 

“If you had to pick fucking me or being fucked, just one, which would you choose?” 

“I don’t know,” Dean says. “Whichever you like best.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I -- I want you to fuck me.” 

“Good,” Cas says, and Dean shivers. “But you’ll get to fuck me, too. Tell me more.” 

“You’re so tight and I -- ah -- are you touching yourself? Please, I need you to.” 

“Yes, Dean.” 

“Do you finger yourself? Or just touch your cock? Do you think about me?” 

“I think about the noises you make. I made you scream, remember? And the way you begged when I had you from behind. I can’t get enough of you, Dean.” 

Dean’s breath goes ragged, panting. 

“And yes, I finger myself sometimes.” 

“Ass or…?” 

“Both.” 

Dean groans. Fuck, he can imagine Cas riding down on his own long, pretty fingers, his own slick making it easy to fuck in and out, his other hand on his cock. “Cas,” he moans.

“Sometimes at the same time.” 

“Oh, Jesus. Cas. Can I -- please, I want to suck you, please.” 

“Next time.” 

“I want you to come all over my face, I want you to say my name.” 

“I bet your tongue is amazing.” 

Dean laughs breathlessly. “Yours is. You -- fuck, fuck -- never been like this with anyone --” 

“I know, baby, I know. You’re close, aren’t you? I can hear it.” 

“Ah -- Cas --” 

“It’s ok. You can come for me. Just let me hear you.” 

“Are you? Cas, are you?” 

“Close? Yes.” 

“Please,” Dean says, not sure what he’s asking for. 

“Not until you do.” 

Dean groans and his hand speeds up, mostly squeezing the head of his cock with rough, tight strokes, and when he comes, he says Cas’s name. 

“There you go,” Cas says. “Suck your fingers clean.” 

Dean groans again, shoves three fingers in his mouth and pretends they are Cas’s, thrusting in and out. 

Cas gasps then, like he’s watching Dean do filthy things to himself, and then he’s moaning and saying, “God, Dean,” his voice lower than usual, and Dean can imagine his eyes closing and lips parting as pleasure slams through him. 

Quiet for a long time, just the sound of their breathing through the line, crossing a hundred miles. Finally, Dean catches his breath and says, “Fuck.” 

“I can’t get over the way you sound when you come,” Cas says. “So beautiful.” 

“You too,” Dean says. 

Cas is smiling. “It’s late.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry for keeping you up,” Dean says. “Goodnight, Cas.” 

 

**Cas:** Thank you for last night. You always make a bad day better. 

**Dean:** I’m just a regular ol ray of sunshine

**Cas:** Most of the time. 

**Dean:** I still kinda miss you 

**Cas:** Friday night at mine? 

**Dean:** For the weekend? 

**Cas:** Yes. 

**Dean:** Fuck yeah 

 

Just hanging out on the couch after dinner, some documentary Cas was raving about on Netflix, and Dean can’t concentrate at all because he can’t stop staring at Cas and thinking about how beautiful he is. The way his eyes light up when something is of particular interest to him. The way he talks about books, waving his hands around with all the drama of a thespian. The way he mostly kisses Dean gently even though he gives Dean the other rough touches Dean craves.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cas finally says. 

“Way to call me out,” Dean says, blushing. “I just like looking at you.” 

Cas looks back at him, searching. “What are you looking for?” 

“I can’t look at my boyfriend?” 

“Not through an entire documentary. I know you didn’t  _ really _ want to watch it but you could’ve at least humored me,” Cas says. 

“Well, you know,” Dean says, “bees aren’t really my thing. But you are.” 

“Is that right, Mr. Winchester?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, suddenly breathless from some kind of promise in Cas’s tone. 

While the credits roll, Cas moves across the couch to straddle Dean’s lap. Dean tilts his chin up and Cas kisses him hard, shoving his tongue into Dean’s mouth and licking against his teeth. Dean wraps his arms around Cas, sliding both hands under his shirt. Dean has fallen in love with Cas’s back -- not that he could ever pick a favorite part of Cas’s body -- shoulders flexing, blades a place Dean can grab on, the unyielding muscle as Dean runs his hands lower. And Cas is so fucking warm, and touching him is like coming home. 

Like he can read Dean’s mind (and maybe he can), Cas says, “Do you want to know my favorite thing about you?” 

“Sure,” Dean says, unable to take his eyes off of Cas’s mouth. 

“That I can just kiss you and,” Cas grinds down into Dean’s lap, “you’re already getting hard.” 

Cas is always making him blush, which is embarrassing in itself, and Cas says, “Look at you being shy about it.” 

“I’m not,” Dean says. 

“Not what?” Cas grinds down again, rolls his hips. “Because you’re  _ definitely _ getting hard.” 

Dean decides to ignore the shy comment and says, “Do you -- I mean, does it feel good when you do that? For you?” 

Cas pauses, doing that thing where he searches Dean’s eyes, like he can see deeper into Dean that way. It makes Dean uncomfortable and scared but he can’t look away. Cas’s eyes are just so fucking blue. “Yes,” Cas finally says. “But a lot of people don’t ask.” 

“If you like it? But…” Dean frowns. “Other people you’ve been with, they don’t want you to enjoy yourself?” 

Cas tilts his head to the side and then shrugs. “Trans guys do. Cis guys just want to pretend.” 

Dean’s hands go to the front of Cas’s shirt, starting to work the buttons free. “I don’t want to pretend,” Dean says. “I want you. Like you are.” He doesn’t look up because it feels too much like an admission of  _ something _ he never meant to voice, but he can hear Cas’s breath catch. 

Cas grabs Dean’s shirt and pulls it over his head before Dean is finished with the buttons. Both of Cas’s hands run down Dean’s chest, then pinch at his nipples, a gentle tease, and Cas leans down to kiss him again, just as hard and owning as the last one. Dean groans and returns the kiss the best he can while he’s practically being attacked by Cas’s tongue, could easily just be a passive participant. 

Dean finishes with the buttons blindly and pushes Cas’s shirt over his shoulders to the floor. Dean thumbs at Cas’s nipples, but pulls away to say, “Hey, do you still have sensation?” 

“Not really.” 

“Ok,” Dean says, sliding his hands down to grip Cas’s hips instead, encouraging him to press downwards and grind. Cas moans into their next kiss, takes Dean’s hint and starts a steady, gentle rhythm. His packer presses against Dean in a delicious kind of pressure and Dean’s kiss grows sloppier, his fingers dig in harder. 

Cas pinches and twists Dean’s nipples hard enough for him to break away from Cas’s mouth and say, “Oh fuck, Cas.” 

“Tell me,” Cas says, twisting harder. “You like it when it hurts?” 

“Yeah, fuck, yeah, like that.” 

Cas’s grin is a little feral, a little wicked, and he gives Dean’s nipples a moment’s rest before twisting and pulling again, Dean arching into him and then trying to pull away though he doesn’t mean it at all, not when every twist goes straight to his straining cock. “Mmm,” Cas hums, biting gently at Dean’s jaw and then hard on his neck. “Do you know how beautiful you are like this?” 

“Like what?” Dean manages to say even though all the blood has rushed out of his head and to the rest of his body, nerves on fire. 

“So turned on. Turned on by me. I can tell how bad you need me.” 

“Yeah, Cas. Need you.” 

Cas soothes over the places he’s been biting at Dean’s neck with soft kisses and licks. “I need you too, you know.” 

“Take me to your bedroom,” Dean says. 

Cas gets up, grabs Dean by the hand and drags him across the living room and all the way to his bed. Before Dean can climb in, he kisses Dean again with lots of tongue while he unbuttons and unzips Dean’s jeans, pushing them and Dean’s boxers to the floor. Dean reaches down and does the same for Cas with eager hands. 

Naked, Cas points at the bed and Dean takes his cue to climb in. Instead of joining him, Cas goes to the dresser, digging through the bottom drawer. 

“Wait, Cas,” Dean says. “You said. Maybe. I could go down on you? I want you in my mouth so bad.” 

Cas turns, seems to realize he’s still in the packer and slips it off his hips without taking his eyes off Dean. “Ok,” Cas says, moving to the bed almost hesitantly. 

“We don’t have to,” Dean says in between kisses, Cas’s hand beginning to slowly stroke Dean’s cock. 

Cas kisses the corner of Dean’s mouth, his jaw, bites at his ear. Dean loves every second of Cas touching him. “But we can,” Cas says. “I’ve thought about it.” 

Dean grins suddenly without meaning to and pushes Cas off of him so he’s flat on his back. He keeps kissing Cas as he trails his fingers over the gentle curve of his clavicles, circling over the firm muscles of his chest, sliding down to the slight softness of his belly. 

Dean breaks the kiss to follow the goosebumps his fingers left behind, nipping softly at collar bones, sucking a mark (hoping Cas won’t mind) on the soft skin just above one of his nipples, kissing wet and hot at his ribs. Cas’s breath is picking up but then Dean can feel him holding it as Dean’s fingers move through coiled hairs and between Cas’s legs. 

“It’s ok,” Dean says, glancing up at Cas as he peppers his stomach with kisses. 

Cas breathes out in a rush as Dean circles a rough fingertip over the head of his cock. Dean’s mouth is nipping at a hipbone and then biting at the inside of one of Cas’s thick thighs, and his hands leave Cas’s cock to grip his hips when his mouth finally finds what it’s looking for. 

When Dean’s tongue flicks out to touch the tip of Cas’s cock, Cas jerks under his hands and Dean is flooded, overwhelmed, with the taste-scent-feel of him. “Fuck,” Dean whispers. 

Dean can feel Cas’s eyes on him, so he glances up as he slides his lips over Cas’s cock, pushing back skin and pressing his tongue to the underside. 

“Please don’t --” Cas says, and Dean has never heard him sound like this before, like he can’t quite make words. “Not anything else --” 

“I know,” Dean says, and slowly licks his tongue over Cas, wraps his lips around him to create the smallest amount of suction. 

Cas’s hands go to Dean’s hair and pull hard, just like Dean likes it, until Dean moans against Cas’s cock. 

“Yes,” Cas says, breath sharp. 

It’s not so different from the other blowjobs Dean has given. He moves forward until all of Cas is in his mouth, sucks and bobs his head, and Cas keeps pulling at his hair and starts to arch his hips and push downward into Dean’s face. Dean can feel Cas wet against his chin and Dean moans again, sucks harder, reaches his hand down to fist his cock. 

“You better not -- you better not be touching yourself,” Cas pants. 

Dean pulls off to say, blushing, “Sorry,” and then kisses the seam between Cas’s thigh and groin before going back to his dick, taking him deep and sucking and licking, Cas moaning and kind of riding his face. Jesus, it’s hot. 

“Cas,” Dean breathes, replacing his mouth with his hand, his other squeezing the inside of Cas’s thigh. “Can I make you come like this?” 

“Yes,” Cas says, and he sounds fucking wrecked, his head thrown back and one hand squeezing in his own hair. 

Dean grins and takes Cas in his mouth again, giving Cas everything he’s got, long licks and suckles. Cas starts to say Dean’s name, almost a religious chant, his stomach tensing and releasing in a harsh rhythm, sweat breaking out across his skin. Dean can tell when he’s about to come because suddenly he jerks Dean’s hair hard enough to almost pull him off, and then he’s giving a low groan and his thighs quiver and tighten around Dean’s shoulders. Dean keeps sucking until Cas really does pull him off by the hair, saying, “Too much.” 

Dean leans away and when he looks, Cas is  _ glistening _ , not just from Dean’s spit but his own slick, and Dean desperately wants to know what he tastes like there, wants to tease his tongue between folds of skin to find the hot core of him. Instead he just licks his lips and wipes off his mouth, then crawls up Cas’s body to kiss him, cock pressing into Cas’s hip. 

“Ok?” Dean says, taking in Cas’s hooded eyes, his red lips, the flush in his cheeks. 

“God,” Cas says, eyes drifting closed but mouth seeking Dean’s anyways. “Yes, good.” 

“Just a little good or really good?” 

Cas laughs weakly. “Can’t talk.” 

Dean figures that means  _ really good.  _ He kisses along Cas’s jaw, loving the feel of a day’s worth of rough scruff against his lips, then softly against his neck. One of Cas’s arms -- shaking a little, Dean notices -- wraps around Dean’s shoulders and pulls him closer until they are skin-to-skin all down their bodies, Dean’s cock still smearing pre-come between their stomachs. 

“Dean,” Cas whispers, “you’re so good,” and Dean trembles a little, too. 

  
It’s a really fucking good weekend.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I know I’m not good at saying it, ok? But I care about you. Like, a lot. And I don’t think you have any big secrets either. And you’re just -- fuck, Cas, nothing that happens today could change how I feel about you, ok?”_

Cas has Thursday and Friday off for Thanksgiving, so Dean manages to beg those days off, too, even though people need tows on holidays, too. But it’s his first holiday season with Cas, and damned if he isn’t going to spend every moment of it with his  _ boyfriend _ . And it’ll be their longest time spent together, and Cas is going to meet more of Dean’s friends, and Dean maybe has never been more nervous in his life, other than all the other times he’s been nervous since he met Cas. 

**Cas:** What are you so afraid of exactly? I thought we’d already determined that I’m not going to run out on you because of some deep, dark secret that’ll come out over 4 days but doesn’t over 2.

**Dean:** HA you could always find the bodies

**Cas:** Your place isn’t big enough to hide bodies. 

**Dean:** Backyard? 

**Cas:** You’re too lazy to dig holes big enough. 

**Dean:** Shit, that really hurts

**Cas:** Dean. 

**Dean:** Idk just like meeting my stupid friends. And I’ve never hosted before

**Cas:** I’m going to help you. I may not be able to cook, but I told you I can play chef’s assistant. I am good with knives. 

**Dean:** Is that a threat? 

**Cas:** Not unless it turns you on. 

**Dean:** I mean lol 

**Cas:** You’re so easy to fluster. 

**Dean:** Shut up

 

Thursday Cas gets up early and heads to Austin to help Dean finish cooking. Dean is a ball of anxiety, up since ass o’clock in the morning, but Cas grabs him by the shoulders and stops him with a soft kiss. “Relax,” he says. “These are just your friends. It’s not like you’re hosting family drama here.” Cas offers a crooked smile and Dean smiles back. Cas says, pointing, “Sit on the couch.” 

Dean goes without questioning, and even though Dean is unshowered and feels kind of gross, Cas peels down his sweatpants and sucks him until Dean is a moaning, boneless mess.

“Better?” Cas asks from between Dean’s knees. 

“Shit, Cas,” Dean says. “How’m I supposed to get anything done now?” 

“Make a list,” Cas says. “I’ll get started while you shower.” 

“Am I smelly, is that what you’re saying?” 

Cas rolls his eyes. “Just accept my offer to help.” 

 

“So remind me,” Cas says, finally sounding a little nervous around noon. 

“You already know Charlie and Dorothy,” Dean says. “Benny, big dude. Garth, really skinny fuck. They both work with me. And Benny’s wife, Andrea, she got really sick so she’s probably not going to make it.” 

“That’s too bad,” Cas says vaguely. 

“Hey,” Dean says, grabbing him by the elbow, pulling him in for a kiss. “I know I’m not good at saying it, ok? But I care about you. Like, a lot. And I don’t think you have any big secrets either. And you’re just -- fuck, Cas, nothing that happens today could change how I feel about you, ok?” 

“Mm,” Cas says, noncommittally, so Dean backs him up against the counter in Dean’s kitchen and kisses him again, kisses him breathless. “Dean,” Cas says, a warning, as Dean goes to nibble and suck on his earlobe. 

Dean kisses behind his ear, down his neck. “You sucked me, so don’t I get to suck you now?” 

“Dean, people are going to be here --” 

“They can wait.” 

“What are you going to say? ‘Excuse me, I need to finish this blowjob’?”

“I bet I could make you come fast.” 

Cas laughs and tilts his head back so Dean can suck at his neck just under his chin. Dean slides his hand between Cas’s legs, presses upwards. “You’re hard,” Dean teases. 

“You’re impossible.” 

“Can I at least touch you?” 

Cas scowls but unbuttons his jeans. Dean immediately slides his hand in, under his boxer briefs, to find where Cas is hard and wanting. “Yeah, there you go,” Dean says, kissing Cas deep and wet. 

Cas moans and his head tilts back again as Dean starts to stroke him. Dean kisses the corner of his mouth, his chin, nips at his jaw, pulls his hand out of Cas’s pants to lick his fingers and then slide back in. “God, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean can feel him coiling tight, muscles already tensing. “I really lo--” 

Cas bites his words off so abruptly that Dean can hear his teeth clack. “What, sweetheart?” Dean says, grinning into Cas’s neck as his fingers grip into one of Dean’s shoulder blades. 

“Nothing,” Cas says. 

Dean was right; it doesn’t take long to make Cas come with a shudder and a deep moan. Cas goes weak and slouches so that Dean has to hurry to wrap an arm around him to keep him from hitting the floor.

“Better?” Dean says, zipping and buttoning Cas back up, smoothing his shirt down his chest. He’s in a nice navy button up that makes his eyes even bluer, if that’s possible. 

“Sure. Now all your friends will know we were fucking in the kitchen right before they got here.”

“They wouldn’t expect any different.” 

The doorbell rings as Dean and Cas are in the middle of another long kiss. Cas jumps, his eyes going a little wild for a moment, but Dean gives him another peck before answering. 

Charlie and Dorothy are on the porch, arms full of food. “Dean! Cas!” Charlie squeals. 

They dump their armfuls of on the bar in the kitchen and Charlie throws her arms around Cas first, kissing each of his cheeks. “You look great! Dean has been taking good care of you!” 

Cas smiles crookedly. “It’s good to see you, too. I apologize for my drunken antics last time.” 

“No, you’re awesome! Do you remember our horcrux discussion?! You opened my eyes, dude.” 

“I… do not recall.” 

Dorothy laughs and gives them each a quick hug. 

“You know,” Dean says, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Slytherin, really?” 

“Us cunning folks use any means to achieve our ends,” Cas says. 

“Ok,” Dorothy says. “As fascinating as this is, let’s not bore Benny and I to death with another Harry Potter argument. For the love of god, it’s the  _ holidays _ , and I’m going to have a good time.” 

“Benny’s bringing liquor,” Dean says. “And pie.” 

“Your two favorite things,” Charlie says. She goes into the kitchen and starts poking around in the various dishes.

“No taste testing, Bradbury!” 

“Speaking of ‘Bradbury’…” Dorothy says. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Charlie says, “I totally wanted to tell you in person, but I got distracted by Harry Potter.” She holds up her left hand, waving it around so Dean can barely follow the motion other than the glint of diamond in the light. 

“Wait, really?” Dean grabs her hand out of the air, inspecting the simple ring. “Are you fucking serious?” 

Charlie squeals; Dorothy smiles in the background. 

“When the fuck did this happen?!” Dean says. 

“Chill out, it was like two days ago.” 

“I was going to wait until New Year’s,” Dorothy says. “But she got suspicious.” 

“You are terrible at keeping secrets, that’s why,” Charlie says. 

Cas, gravely, says, “Congratulations.” 

Dean glances at him, wondering if Cas plans on getting married some day, if he wants a ring and a tux and the whole shebang. If Dean would maybe give -- nope, nope, nope. That thought is  _ not _ allowed. Dean is just trying to have a normal, peaceful day with good food and good drink and good friends, not think about how he could make sure Cas never has another lonely holiday. 

“Yeah, man,” Dean says, “wow, congratulations. That’s fucking awesome.” 

Benny and Garth don’t bother to ring the doorbell, just barge in with scotch and three kinds of pie. “Is this much food really necessary?” Cas says, taking some of it from them. 

“Yes,” the other five of them say in tandem. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Benny says, reaching out to grip Cas’s forearm. 

“Cas, this is Benny and Garth. Benny, Garth, this is Cas.” 

“Jeez, it’s good to meet you,” Garth says, throwing spindly limbs around Cas’s shoulders. 

“Dean has been swooning over you for months, brother,” Benny says, giving Dean a smirk. 

“Have not,” Dean says. 

“Yes, you have,” Cas says with a smirk of his own. 

“Hate to break this up,” Charlie says, “but I’m fucking  _ starving _ . Can we eat already?” 

“Let me check the turkey,” Dean says. “Should be ready by now.” 

“You’re all in luck in that I had very little to do with the actual cooking of this food,” Cas says. 

“Oh, is that your only flaw? That you don’t cook?” Charlie says, skipping around Dean in the kitchen to pull out plates and silverware like she belongs there.

“I have flaws,” Cas says, helping pass out plates to everyone. 

Garth, for being such a skinny dude, takes bigger portions than everyone, piling his plate up until Dean reminds him there’s always the option of seconds and no one is going to starve. Dean’s dining table isn’t big enough for all of them so they spread out through the living and dining room, chattering and generally stuffing their faces. 

Somehow Cas ends up separated from Dean, Cas at the table and Dean on the couches with Benny and Garth, but every time Dean glances over, Cas is smiling or laughing with Charlie, though he seems to feel Dean’s eyes on him and looks up to offer his special Dean-only smile. 

Dorothy won’t let Dean do the dishes -- her and Garth work together to load the dishwasher -- and then the 12-year scotch comes out. Dean wants to gulp but he thinks Cas might be watching so he takes it slow in a way he doesn’t really know how to with whiskey.

After the first drink, Cas is crowding up against Dean on the couch, and Dean slings an arm around his shoulders and kisses his cheek to a chorus of “awwwww”s. 

“Shut up,” Dean says, blushing. 

“It’s cute,” Charlie says. “It’s good to see you happy.” 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Cas, let’s dump these idiots and run away together,” Jess says._

Mid-December, Charlie and Dean are Christmas shopping, hopping from pawn shop to consignment shop to thrift shop looking for the  _ perfect _ old sign -- “preferably neon!!!” Charlie shrieked at Dean -- for Dorothy. Dean’s already picked up a little something for Cas from the internet, but it’s not enough, especially since Cas mentioned that they never really did Christmas when he was a kid. The Winchesters never were big on gifts, never had enough cash to spare, but Dean still made sure Sam had a holly, jolly holiday, with a tree and everything, and he wants to do the same for Cas. 

Their first Christmas together, and Dean wants to make it as perfect as he can, full of family and joy and fuck, yes, full of  _ love _ . Dean’s almost over pretending like he’s not head-over-heels. 

He finds his real gift for Cas in the same place Charlie finds hers for Dorothy, a weird little place that is aptly named “WEIRD STUFF.” Dean’s not sure what draws him to the furthest corner of the random assortment of furniture, knick-knacks, and other oddities, but he ends up standing in front of an old-school wooden trunk, the kind that takes a padlock on the front and looks like it could hold pirate’s treasure. It’s big, but he’s pretty sure it will fit in his closet, or at least at the end of his bed without dominating his entire bedroom. He also thinks Cas would like it, though he’s not entirely sure why. It’s overpriced but Dean doesn’t worry over it at all as he hands over the cash.

 

Cas and Dean barely talk during the weeks leading up to Christmas as Cas grades about a million and one final essays, but Sam starts sending a flurry of texts, quizzing Dean about Cas and their life together. 

**Dean:** We don’t have a LIFE TOGETHER he lives in BCS 

**Sam:** You don’t talk to me because you’re too busy with him and you spend every weekend together. What more, exactly, do you require to constitute a “life together”? 

**Dean:** “Constitute” jesus who are you   
**Dean:** And you stopped talking to me when you met Jess so

**Sam:** Dude it’s totally cool, I’m really happy for you.    
**Sam:** Go take care of your man. See you soon. Jess says hi. 

 

At the baggage carousel, Sam lopes up to Dean and throws his arms around him in the skinny dude version of a bear hug. Dean hugs back, a little awkwardly, because he never really got the hang of this platonic hug thing, and says, “Have you gotten taller, man? Your hair is definitely longer, you fucking girl.” 

From behind Sam, Jess says, “Don’t be sexist, Dean,” and steps in to hug him, too. 

“Beautiful as always, Jessica Winchester,” Dean says, winking. 

She pecks him on the cheek and says, “So where’s this legendary boyfriend of yours?” 

Dean blushes, rubs the back of his neck. “He’s, uh, he’s at home. Working on dinner. Hopefully the place won’t be burned down by the time we get back _.”  _

_ At home _ , Dean said, and by the face Sam is giving Dean, Sam noticed, too. “Shut up,” Dean says. 

“Zero words came out of my mouth, dude,” Sam says. “Hey, help me out with this bag. I think Jess packed ten pairs of shoes.” 

Dean takes the larger of the two suitcases and then swings Jess’s carry-on backpack over his shoulder, too, before they all walk out to the Impala together. 

“Baby looks nice,” Sam says, running a hand over the curve of her trunk with the proper amount of reverence before Dean pushes him aside to pop it and shove their bags in.

“Always does,” Dean replies. “But really -- do you guys plan on moving in? This is way too much shit.” 

“A week is a long time,” Jess says. 

“Don’t remind me.” 

 

Coming home to Cas in his space makes Dean grin without embarrassment. Dean is dragging Jess’s suitcase behind him and has a backpack on each shoulder and Cas rushes to help like Dean can’t drop bags on the floor behind one of the couches by himself. Cas is nervous, Dean can tell, though he doesn’t think Sam or Jess will catch on. 

“Sam, Jess,” Dean says, pointing at them in turn as if it’s not obvious who is who, “this is Cas.” 

Sam grins and wraps Cas up in the same huge hug he gave Dean, and it’s Dean’s brotherly duty to scowl at him like he doesn’t hug Cas all the time just because he can. Jess is more polite about it, offering with her arms instead of just dragging Cas into it, and Cas hugs her sweetly, gently. 

“Really good to meet you,” Cas says. 

“Dude,” Sam says, “I’ve heard so much about you. You have no idea. Dean doesn’t talk about anything else.” 

Dean blushes and says, “Shut up.” Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Cas giving him a fond smile. 

“I’ve had to hear about you third-hand,” Jess says, “so we might as well be boyfriends, too.” 

“Cas doesn’t do chicks,” Dean says. “Right?” 

Cas laughs. “No, I do not. Sorry to disappoint, Mrs. Winchester.” 

“If you call me that again, I will punch you.” 

“She’s got a mean right hook,” Sam says. “I’d watch out.” 

 

Dean bought a fake tree, because Sam insists the real thing irritates his allergies, and they bring it out along with the stupid amount of decorations Dean bought just so Cas will get to experience this with them. 

In honesty it’s been awhile since Dean did the whole holiday thing with all the trappings, probably since Sam went to California, but Cas laughs as Dean and Sam struggle with the lights and Cas and Jess fuss over all the brightly colored bobbles and Sam wrestles the golden star away from Dean to place it at the top, claiming he gets the honors because he’s the tallest, and it feels like new traditions are being created between the four of them. 

“Are you religious?” Cas asks. “The star?” 

“Nah,” Dean says. “Just wanted you to have the whole traditional thing, you know?” 

Sam and Jess’s eyes both go “awwww” and Dean glares. 

“You’re named after an angel,” Sam says. “Wasn’t your family religious?” 

“We had a very non-commercial Christmas. We tended to avoid all the crossovers from pagan tradition, though I don’t believe my parents necessarily knew that history.” 

“Sucks, dude,” Sam says. “That sounds boring.” 

“It really was.” 

Sam says, “When we were kids, Dean would read ‘The Night Before Christmas’ to me every Christmas Eve, even after I could read myself. We had this awesome illustrated version. What happened to that, Dean?” 

Dean shrugs. “Some storage unit Dad didn’t pay probably.” 

Cas gives him a long look Dean can’t interpret. “We could look it up online,” Cas says. 

“I am  _ not _ reading it,” Dean says.

“I will,” Jess says. “You assholes can just pretend it’s for the --” She snaps her jaw shut, pointedly not looking at Sam. 

“So, hey,” Sam says. “We have something to tell you.” 

Dean tries to keep from grinning already, knows he should act surprised even though he’s not an idiot. “Yeah?” 

Jess and Sam both look like they are going to burst, but Sam says it first. “You’re going to be an uncle.” 

Jess squeals. Dean lets his grin loose. Cas speaks first, saying, “Congratulations.” 

Dean gets up and hugs Sam, slapping him on the back extra hard for good measure. “You fucking asshole,” he says, “you’re going to be a  _ dad _ .” 

“You better clean up that mouth before the baby gets here,” Jess says. 

“You just called us assholes too,” Cas points out. 

“Do  _ not _ incur the wrath of the pregnant lady,” Jess replies. Cas holds his hands up, looking properly chastised.

They talk babies then, arguing about names and Cas and Jess having a very serious discussion about different educational theories that goes way over Dean’s head. They all agree that a girl should have Mary as a middle name, or at least some version of it, but no one brings up John for a boy by silent agreement. Sam does say maybe Michael for a boy’s middle name, which makes Dean sputter and vehemently insist he absolutely not do that. 

“What about Jess’s family?” Cas says. 

She shrugs. “Just not the kind of people who pass on names. Dean and Sam are both named after family members.” 

“Really?” Cas says. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Grandma was Deanna and grandpa was Samuel,” Sam says. 

“Were you close?” 

“They died before we were born.” 

“That’s too bad,” Cas says.

“What about you, man?” Sam says. “Why are you hanging out with us and not your family right now? Other than the boring thing.” 

Cas looks away. “They don’t approve of my lifestyle.” 

“Because you’re gay?” Jess says. 

“Yes,” Cas says after a long pause. 

Jess reaches across the coffee table and grabs his hand, squeezing softly. “You’ve got us now.” 

 

In bed, Cas presses up against Dean’s back, kissing and biting gently along his shoulder, a hand sliding to tease a dry finger over his hole. 

“Cas,” Dean says sleepily. “They’ll hear.” 

“Not if you’re quiet.” 

Dean was never particularly loud before he met Cas, but now he’s not sure he could contain himself. Still, Cas persists, craning backwards to dig around for the lube so the next touch is cool and wet. “Cas,” Dean says again, a lot more awake but refraining from pushing his hips back into the touch. 

“If you really don’t want to,” Cas says,”tell me. But I think you want my pretty fingers in you.” 

“Will you let that go? I’m sorry I ever said it.” 

Cas huffs a laugh against the back of his neck, then bites there hard enough for Dean to gasp. “Yes or no?” Cas says. His nail scrapes, so gently it’s hardly a touch at all, over Dean. 

“Fine,” Dean says, trying to sound like the experience will be a hardship. 

The first finger slides in him slowly, twisting a few times to get Dean nice and wet, inside and out. Dean sighs, head tilting backward to rest on Cas’s shoulder so Cas can nose under his jaw and leave soft kisses there. 

“You’re so tight,” Cas murmurs against Dean’s ear. “Don’t know how we ever fit a cock in there.” 

Dean lets out a soft moan as Cas adds a second finger. 

“Shh,” Cas says. “Quiet, remember? But I want you to think about it. My cock in you from behind, filling you up just like you like it. Tell me how you like it.” 

“You already know,” Dean says, arching his back to meet the slow, careful thrusts of Cas’s fingers. 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“Sometimes -- sometimes just like this.” 

“Keep talking.” 

“Like --” Dean pauses to bite his lip, blushing and then stuttering as Cas pushes in a third finger. “Gentle.” 

“No one’s ever touched you like this before, have they?” 

“I -- no.” 

Cas twists his fingers and Dean lets out a high pitched whine, then slaps his hand over his own mouth. “You’re a treasure, Dean. You’re cherished.” 

“Stop it, Cas,” Dean says, a harsh whisper. 

Cas stills, his fingers just shy of pressing into Dean’s sweet spot. 

“No -- please, god, don’t stop touching me. Just. Don’t say things like that.” 

Cas’s fingers move again, even slower than before, hot molasses. “Do you not care how I feel about you?” 

“Of course I -- fuck, Cas, I care.” 

“Dean, the best Christmas present you could ever give me? Letting me care about you. Without argument.” 

A hard tremble runs through Dean’s entire body as Cas starts to rub inside him, still slow and easy. Dean wants to say a lot of things, starting with  _ I won’t ever be able to live up to who you think I am _ , ending with  _ All I want is you anyway _ , but he can’t make his mouth move. 

“Dean,” Cas says, the exact same tone he used to say Dean is  _ cherished _ , “touch yourself. We’re going to make you come.” 

 

Dean makes bacon pancakes. As soon as they sit down for breakfast, Sam says, “I would really like to thank you, Dean, for not making me listen to you fucking last night for the millionth time in my life.” 

Dean glances at Cas sideways and Cas says, “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.” 

“Oh my god,” Sam says as Jess cackles. “My  _ wife _ is here. My  _ unborn child. _ ” 

“Hey, we were quiet,” Dean says, spearing another pancake from what seems like a never-ending stack. 

Dean tries not to be endeared by how horrified Cas looks, but Cas recovers and says, “For the millionth time, hmm?” 

“Did Dean fail to tell you he’s been around a lot?” Sam says. Dean gives him a sharp look but Sam continues anyway. “Like,  _ a lot _ .” 

“No, he has not mentioned that.” Cas is looking at Dean, assessing him, but Dean’s not entirely sure what the look means. 

Jess is still laughing. “You shut up, Sam Winchester. You have no room to talk.” 

“Sammy was a virgin when he met you,” Dean says. “He’s lucky you took pity.” 

“Don’t call me Sammy.” 

“‘Don’t call me Sammy,’” Dean mocks. 

“Cas, let’s dump these idiots and run away together,” Jess says. 

Cas says, “I’m receptive.” 

“Merry Christmas, guys. We’re out,” Jess says, standing up to collect the dishes. 

“Let us do that,” Sam says. “You’re pregnant.” 

Jess rolls her eyes. “Are you going to coddle me for the next seven months? I’m already tired of it.” 

Sam and Jess end up in the kitchen, bickering, and Cas grabs Dean with an intense stare and says, “Can I speak with you for a moment? In private?” 

Dean’s stomach plummets, but he smiles and says, “Sure.” 

With Dean’s bedroom door clicked shut behind them, Cas says, “Firstly, my gift for you is… personal. I’d rather wait until Sam and Jess are gone.” 

“Yeah, cool. One of mine is too. We can have second Christmas.” 

“Secondly,” Cas says, but instead of continuing, he stalks up to Dean, grabs him by the shoulders to spin him around, and shoves him face-first onto the bed. Dean turns his head to look at Cas, eyes wide. Cas clenches a fist in Dean’s hair, holding his head down, and leans over to hiss into his ear, “Been around a lot, huh?” 

Dean flinches. “Not since I met you, I swear. Not since we started talking even.”

“Your faithfulness is not in question,” Cas says. His voice goes dangerously lower, mouth practically pressed up to Dean’s ear in a kiss. “But if your sister-in-law and _ unborn child _ weren’t in the other room, I would fuck you so hard you forgot your own name. I would make you beg and scream for me. Since I can’t do that, tell me: has anyone ever fucked you like I do?” 

“Fuck, no, Cas.” 

“Has anyone ever made you feel as good as I make you feel? Feel the  _ way _ I make you feel?” 

Dean is breathing in harsh gasps and fights the urge to work an arm under himself to palm against his impossibly hard cock. “No,” Dean pants. “Never been like this before.” 

Cas licks his lips, the tip of his tongue skimming over the curve of Dean’s ear. “I want to ruin you for anyone else.”

“Don’t want anyone else, Cas.” 

“Good. Now turn over and take off your shirt.” 

Dean hurries to comply, staring up at Cas, bewildered and overwhelmed, but Cas is looking down at the distinctive bulge in Dean’s jeans. Cas doesn’t say anything, just smirks, and then shoves Dean onto his back on the bed. “Cas -- “ Dean says, eyes darting towards the door. He can hear Sam and Jess just on the other side of it. 

“Keep your mouth shut.” 

Dean clenches his jaw hard enough it makes his teeth hurt. He wants to reach for Cas, pull him in for a kiss, but he has a feeling that’s not what Cas wants right now so he just squeezes his hands in the sheets instead. 

Cas leans down, noses at a soft patch of skin just above Dean’s hip bone, and then sinks his teeth in. Dean has to bite down on his own fist to keep from crying out. Cas sucks, hard, then moves on to another spot once he’s satisfied. By the time he gets to Dean’s shoulders, Dean knows he’s going to be covered in bruises by morning. Dean is just whimpering in his hand, not sure where his brain has gone but it’s floating off somewhere outside his body so all he’s left with is the stinging soreness of Cas’s bites. 

At Dean’s neck, Cas’s teeth turn to gentle scraping instead of outright biting. Dean tilts his head back to bare his throat, a silent offering, but Cas just chuckles darkly with his mouth just below Dean’s ear. “Believe me, I want to,” Cas says, “but I’d hate to traumatize your brother any further. Remind me, though: who do you belong to?” 

“You,” Dean says without a moment’s thought.

“And who do I belong to?” 

“Me.” 

Cas kisses him. It’s not the softest kiss they’ve ever shared but it’s not rough at all, either, just the wet rub of tongues, going on forever. Cas pulls away first, Dean’s neck stretching to try to hold the kiss longer.

Cas says, “We better get back. Compose yourself first.” 

 

Jess arches an eyebrow at Dean when he comes back out. Dean and Cas weren’t in there alone for very long, but when Dean looked in the mirror, he certainly  _ looked _ like he’d been fucked until he was screaming, so he spent a long time washing his face and fiddling with his hair and putting on a different shirt that covers the teeth marks on his shoulder. He still feels a little dazed. 

“Sam’s in the shower,” Jess says. “It’ll take him about an hour to wash his hair -- mind if I use yours?” 

“Go for it.” 

Alone again, Cas approaches Dean. Dean kind of holds his breath, but the hard glint is gone from Cas’s eyes. Cas strokes his hand down the side of Dean’s neck, then pulls aside his collar to inspect one of the sets of teeth marks there. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No. I mean, yeah. But.” 

“But you liked it.” 

Dean blushes. “Cas, I really haven’t been with -- I haven’t even thought about being with anyone else since we started talking.” 

“Even when we weren’t having sex?” 

“I didn’t think about anything but getting my hands on you then,” Dean says. “Still don’t think about much else.” 

Cas laughs and wraps his arms around Dean, hand in the short hairs on the back of his neck, and kisses him, full and sweet. Cas lets Dean back him up into a wall, sliding a leg between Cas’s and pressing upwards. Dean’s mouth drifts to Cas’s neck, sucking too gently to leave a bruise.

Cas says, “You are just determined for your brother to walk in on -- hello, Sam.” 

Dean backs up a step and Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m over it. Happy for you two love-birds, really.” 

Jess comes out of Dean’s bedroom, still toweling at her hair. She’s smiling, but she gives Sam an unreadable expression, the kind of secret look that long-term lovers share. Dean wonders if he and Cas have those kinds of looks yet, their own secret language. 

Sam returns it with the barest raise of eyebrows, then says, “So, presents?” 

Dean and Sam got each other the kind of things they always did as kids, staples there weren’t ever enough of -- socks, flannel -- and everyone bought books for Cas, hardbacks he runs his fingers over reverently. “I don’t have any of these,” he says. 

“I checked,” Dean says. 

“You went through my books?” 

“Is that ok?” 

Cas’s smile is so sweet and adoring it takes Dean’s breath away. 

 

There’s way too much food at dinner, and a lot of laughter, and Jess makes them drive around looking at Christmas lights in the rich neighborhoods after night falls. Dean keeps catching Cas smiling at him and Dean doesn’t know what to call the lightness in his chest that happens every time his eyes meet Cas’s. 

Just before they fall asleep, Cas says, “Dean?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas, Cas.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I know it might not mean much, but you’ve got allies here, you know?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the bathroom case](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gender_identity_under_Title_IX#G._G._v._Gloucester_County_School_Board)
> 
>  
> 
>  **Content note** : Cas is outed. (It doesn't go well.)

The next day is a lazy one in pjs, playing cards around the coffee table. They keep switching games but Cas keeps winning anyway until everyone groans and gives up to turn on a movie instead.

Dinner is leftovers from the day before. No one will let Dean near the kitchen -- Jess even fills up and serves him his goddamn plate -- and Sam and Dean spend most of the meal picking at each other, mostly old jokes that go over Jess and Cas’s heads.

During a comfortable lull, Sam says, “So, hey, I know everything that's going on politically right now must be a real bummer. I mean, the stay on the bathroom case? That's really messed up.”

Dean’s heart stops, but Sam keeps fucking talking, all earnest and sincere.

“I know it might not mean much, but you’ve got allies here, you know?”

“Sam,” Dean says, a whispered growl.

“Excuse me,” Cas says, shoving backwards hard enough his chair almost topples.

There’s a long moment where Dean is paralyzed, and then he gets up to follow Cas into the bedroom. Cas is throwing things haphazardly into his bag and doesn’t look up at Dean.

“Cas, I -- I don’t know how -- I didn’t tell him.”

“You promised.” Cas’s voice is cold and dead.

“I fucking swear, I would never -- Cas, please. Don’t go. Please.”

Cas zips his bag and stands up, staring at Dean like he’s never hated anyone more. Maybe he hasn’t. “Wait,” Dean says, grabbing Cas’s elbow as he pushes past towards the door.

“You can’t just _grab people_ , Dean,” Cas says, wrenching out of his grip.

“I didn’t tell him,” Dean repeats, helpless.

On the way to the front door, Cas smiles tightly at Sam and Jess and says, “It was nice to meet you.”

Barefoot, Dean chases him out to his car. “I don’t know how he found out,” Dean says. He’s begging a little, doesn’t care.

“Get out of the way.”

Dean takes a step back and Cas shuts the car door, then backs out of the driveway without sparing Dean another glance.

 

Dean slams back into the house. Sam and Jess are there waiting and Sam says, “Dude, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize --”

“Shut the fuck up, Sam,” Dean says, and slams the bedroom door behind himself, too.

He sits in bed with his head in his hands for a long time, then grabs his phone off the nightstand.

 **Dean:** I didn’t even know he knew  
**Dean:** I would NEVER break a promise to you  
**Dean:** Please be safe driving home

Dean waits a few hours, until Cas should be home and able to reply to his messages. He doesn’t leave his room even when Jess knocks softly and asks him if he’s ok.

 **Dean:** Please talk to me  
**Dean:** I need you

 **Cas:** I trusted you very deeply and now I regret it.

Dean hits the call button immediately, ready to grovel, but it goes straight to voicemail. He tries a second time just to be sure and gets the same result. He wants to throw the phone against the wall -- pulls his arm back to do just that -- but changes his mind in case Cas does call back.

Dean stalks out to the living room, looming over Sam on the couch. “How did you know,” Dean grits out. “He _always_ passes.”

He expects Sam to answer, but Jess looks away first. “When I was in your room, I saw… things. And there was testosterone on the counter.”

Oh, fuck. Dean let her in there, not even thinking about it. His hands are shaking. “And you,” he says, turning back to Sam, “just had to go and say something.”

“I’m really sorry, man. We didn’t realize it was, you know, a big secret.”

“What the fuck else would it be? Do you see a trans pride flag in the yard?”

“To be fair, there’s not a bi one, either,” Sam says. “I don’t know, we just figured…”

“You were wrong,” Dean says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 **Dean:** When I let Jess in our room  
**Dean:** I think she saw your harness  
**Dean:** And T in the bathroom  
**Dean:** God I’m so fucking sorry

 

Dean knows, rationally, that Sam and Jess meant well. Sam’s response to Dean’s coming out had been an eyeroll and “dude, I know,” but then he went and signed up for a fucking PFLAG newsletter and put a rainbow sticker on his car. Jess is just a sweetheart overall, and it’s not her fault Dean let her into Dean and Cas’s space without remembering there was evidence laying around.

So ultimately, it _is_ Dean’s fault, and he stays awake all night, staring at the ceiling and willing himself back in time to fix this.

All he can think about is the way Cas looked at him, betrayed and devastated, and maybe the worst part is, Dean can’t blame Cas at all for feeling that way.

In the shower the next morning, Dean looks down and he’s littered in marks from Cas’s mouth, most of them still dark and edged with teeth marks. He strokes his fingers over the one on his hip and wills it to never heal.

 

 **Dean:** You left your T here. Can I bring it to you?

 

 **Dean:** Happy New Year  
**Dean:** I miss you

  
**Dean:** You made me so happy  
**Dean:** I’ve never been happy before


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i wish you were here_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out [this pretty cool duet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIFu3vWicmI) a trans guy did with himself pre- and post-T. i listened to it basically on loop while working on the next couple of chapters. 
> 
> **Content note** : Dean drinks away his feelings.

Late January, Dean is in Bobby’s cramped, messy office. “I need another week off.” 

Bobby drops his pen and looks over Dean, appraising. Dean has been drinking and hasn’t been sleeping and knows he looks like shit. “Is this about that guy of yours?” 

Dean clenches a fist. “Yes or no?” 

“We got that new guy starting Monday. Can you wait until the week after?” 

No, Dean can’t wait. He’s fucking crawling out of his skin and everything in his place -- everything in his whole life -- makes him think of Cas. “Yeah, whatever,” he says. 

“I can’t pay you.” 

“I know.” 

“Get outta my office. I got work to do.” 

 

The Monday starting his week off -- despite his hangover, despite maybe still being a little drunk -- Dean pulls himself out of bed basically in the middle of the night to make the drive out to Enchanted Rock by sunrise. 

Walking up the rock, he curses the damn thing for reminding him he’s getting old and out of shape, that he’s got a shitty knee that pops every time he straightens his leg out the entire way, that he is definitely not wearing the correct attire for an early-morning hike up a steep incline. The sky started to lighten about the time he pulled into the parking lot so he hurries enough to trip a couple of times. He’s breathing hard by the time he gets to the top. 

It’s worth it. The sunrise coming up over the surrounding hills is breathtaking. It’s not Yellowstone, and Dean knows his shitty cell phone pictures will never even begin to compare to Cas’s photos, but it kills him that he never brought Cas here all the same. He just thought there was always more time. 

Dean emails instead of texts, figuring Cas can set a filter to auto-delete his messages if he wants. He titles the email  _ i wish you were here _ but can’t come up with anything else to say in the body so he just sends the best picture he managed to take. 

He waits until the sky is blue and the sun is warming him up before taking the walk down back to the Impala, then he’s back on the road. 

There’s this little roadside diner outside of Mathis Dean always remembered as the best pancakes he’d ever had, even though he’d been a kid the only time he’d visited. He’s glad to find the diner still exists and while yeah, he’s probably had at least slightly better pancakes now that he’s an adult and can spend more than a $4.99 breakfast special they could afford back when John was dragging them around the country, it’s not by much. It’s kind of a pretentious move to take pictures of meals, but he takes one of the stack of pancakes, over easy eggs, bacon, and hash browns, and attaches it to the same email thread.

He considers waiting until the next morning to catch the sunrise at Mustang Island, but instead settles for taking a million pictures of the endless ocean, the gentle waves breaking, and a ridiculous amount of birds while the sky is still bright overhead. He gets lucky and catches a picture of a brown pelican flying low over the water and decides to send that one. 

Corpus Christi is just down the road but he misses the closing time for the aquarium there, so Dean ends up staying overnight away. Cas talked, once, about the sea turtle rehabilitation program at Texas State, and Dean said they should go sometime, and Cas said he would like that, giving Dean his special I-adore-you smile. Dean can’t decide which part would be Cas’s favorite so he sends a few pictures of the dolphins and the bald eagles and the jellyfish and the sea turtles, many of which are missing fins but glide around the tank as gracefully as if they were whole. Dean stands watching for a long time. He wishes he could find that kind of peace with part of him missing.

Next he heads for the border, cutting across the bottom tip of Texas to Laredo. Nuevo Laredo is run by cartels just like most of the border towns, but it always seemed wrong to live so close to Mexico without ever leaving the States, so Dean parks the Impala and takes a bus across the river. It’s just about as cheery as one would expect, which is not at all, so Dean doesn’t do much but take a perfunctory walk through the market on Zaragoza Street and buy some cheap beer to take back to the motel. He sends Cas a picture of some silly knick-knacks at one of the stalls, and he ends up buying some stuff he doesn’t need just because he feels like an asshole taking pictures of someone’s wares and then just walking off. 

The motel is the same kind of shitty motel Dean grew up in and Cas stayed in all the previous summer. It’s ugly and even the non-smoking room smells like stale cigarettes and the water pressure is barely enough to cut through the road weariness sticking to Dean’s skin. Dean goes through the beer he bought in Mexico, tv on but inaudible. 

In the morning Dean shoves the empties into a trashcan and takes a picture of the room right before he leaves it, bed still unmade so if he squints, he can imagine he and Cas shared it together. 

Dean drives all day, weaving back and forth from back roads to highways along the Rio Grande. He stops at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place for a late lunch and takes a picture of the margarita he has before his food arrives. He even pays for the upgrade for Don Julio, because it’s what Cas would do. For the second, he just goes for the house tequila. He’s not really tasting it anyway.

Outside of Big Bend, he finds himself inside a sports supply store, buying appropriate hiking attire as to not repeat the Enchanted Rock debacle -- he still has chafing rubs on the inside of his thighs. He even buys hiking boots that he’ll probably never wear again. 

Dean hits Big Bend at sunrise, because it’s what Cas would do. He picks the Lost Mine Trail, figures he can handle just under five miles of “moderate” trail. He takes a lot of pictures and is limping by the time he gets back to the Impala. One of the pictures he sends Cas is of his bad knee covered in a bag of ice, the shitty hotel tv the only light in the room. 

The original plan was to hike more the following day, but fuck, Dean’s knee is swollen like a basketball and he can hardly put weight on it. Plan B involves a kayak and the Rio Grande, and the burn in his shoulders is a welcome distraction from all the beauty surrounding him. The beauty Cas is missing, so it all seems a little pointless. He’s so tired by the end of the day that he almost falls asleep before sending off his photos. 

Dean is a fucking moron so now his entire body feels like it’s been bludgeoned over and over, maybe shoved through a wood chipper for good measure. The heat of the motel shower isn’t anywhere near enough to even dull the pain, nor is the handful of Ibuprofen he swallows with lukewarm water. He limps himself into a liquor store and spends the rest of the day with Jack, managing to drink himself into a place where everything hurts a little less. He can imagine Cas teasing him about being old and broken and then using his hands and mouth to soothe all of Dean’s aches. That’s probably what hurts most of all. 

Dean takes a picture of himself, looking dead tired and, probably, honestly, a little drunk and attaches it to the growing email thread where he is the only participant. The  _ i wish you were here  _ subject taunts him. He thinks he should say more, but he’s not sure what he would say. As usual, he sleeps fitfully. 

Dean’s week is running out so he gets on the road early and heads north towards Marfa. He visits outdoor art installations that make no sense to him, eats some kind of gourmet grilled cheese sandwich at a semi-secret restaurant, and splurges on a cool motel with typewriters in the rooms. 

It’s the kind of place Cas would’ve visited the summer before, wandering in between huge metal sculptures with his camera up to his eye. There would have been pictures of the changing shadows thrown by the art as the sun moved across the sky on his blog, and then there would’ve been private pictures he’d send only to Dean, maybe frowning at a grilled cheese the size of his face or backed by those unidentified lights that show up at night sometimes in Marfa. Or maybe alone in his motel room, because even then, Dean’s pretty sure Cas knew what even a glimpse of a bare collarbone did to him, especially if Cas was sleepy and smiling. 

Dean is not a man who cries. Never has been, didn’t even cry when John died. John trained that kind of softness out of him when he was a kid. But imagining Cas in this space, this funky little motel in this funky little town, the Cas-shaped hole in his chest grows exponentially until he’s shaking from the emptiness. Dean’s not a man who cries, but the pillow is damp when he finally falls asleep. 

On the way to White Sands, Dean tries to figure out what the hell he was trying to accomplish with this little trip. He couldn’t possibly have been so stupid as to think a drive around Texas and a couple of pictures would bring Cas back. He might as well have stayed home and drank himself silly for a week. It would’ve saved a couple bucks at least. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Sam:** You know this won’t fix anything, right? Your life is still going to be your life when you get back. You’ll still be yourself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content note** : Dean continues to drink away his feelings.

**Sam:** Dude where the fuck are you? Charlie said you skipped town. 

**Dean:** Road trip

**Sam:** Hitting all the liquor stores in TX? 

**Dean:** Only some of them   
**Dean:** On my way to White Sands in NM now

**Sam:** You know this won’t fix anything, right? Your life is still going to be your life when you get back. You’ll still be yourself.

**Dean:** Fuck off, don’t shrink me

**Sam:** Call me if you need anything. 

 

Despite his vagabond childhood, Dean hasn’t actually left Texas in a long time save for a couple trips out to Sam in California, so he pauses at the New Mexico state line and sends a picture of Baby parked in front of it. She’s covered in road grime, but so is he, so whatever.

White Sands. Dean saw some pictures on Google while planning his little trip, but not even professional photographers could capture this. The sand really is white, and it goes on forever. Dean’s original itinerary included more outdoor stuff, finding the kind of photography spots Cas would love, but his body is too battered so he just does a scenic drive with the Impala’s windows all the way down, takes pictures of what he can without having to limp too far off the road. 

He takes another picture, later, the kind he would have sent Cas before: just out of the shower, the mirror a little fogged with steam, a towel slung low over his hips. Cas said he looked so much younger with his hair damp and unstyled, like a shy boy. Cas is probably deleting all the emails without looking anyway. 

Dean doesn’t have much planned for the drive back to Austin. He takes the slightly longer route, not bothering to head south on I-10 through the shithole that is El Paso, instead jumping on 87 to pass just east of Abilene and come back to Austin from the north. He stops at the Salt Lick in Round Rock and eats a disgusting amount of expensive bbq he doesn’t really taste, just because he hadn’t taken Cas there. He sends Cas a picture of ribs stacked high on his plate. 

It’s another half hour to home, and he can’t fucking wait. Maybe it’s because he never really had a “home” to go back to as a kid, but he’s not used to this kind of longing for his own bed, his own things, his ugly vintage couches and the occasional barking from a neighbor’s basset hound. 

There’s a package on his porch and it’s from Cas. Dean’s hands start shaking as soon as he picks it up, so it takes a couple tries to get his key in the lock. He dumps his bag on the floor just inside the doorway and takes the package to his kitchen table, cutting it open with the utility knife he usually has in his pocket. 

The top layer is a couple of band t-shirts and a flannel. He’d kind of given the shirts to Cas, loved seeing him in Dean’s clothes, and it aches to see them again. He tosses them on the table. There’s a handful of tattered paperbacks, a couple of tapes he’s not sure why would even end up in Cas’s apartment in the first place, since he definitely did not own any kind of tape player, but there they are.

At the bottom is a little photo album, one of the cheap plastic ones, not like some kind of intricate scrapbook. Dean has never seen it before and opens it with tentative fingers, afraid what he’ll find inside. 

He should’ve gone with his first instinct and just threw it in the trash, but here he is, staring at the first picture, him and Cas sometime around when they first met, Cas’s face halfway outside the frame as they tried to figure out how to take a two-person selfie. The next one is from the same day, the very next moment, when Dean couldn’t resist the closeness of Cas pressed up against him on the couch and grabbed him for a kiss. It’s blurry as they jostled even closer, and Dean hadn’t really meant to push the photo button again, but he still looked at it every day for weeks after it was taken. 

The photos get better, wide smiles with Dean’s arm thrown around Cas’s shoulder, nuzzling up to kiss his cheek, both of them in various stages of scruff from clean-shaven to really-shoulda-shaved-two-days-ago. They look happy. Dean can’t help smiling looking at them. There’s the first pictures they ever sent each other, before Dean was so enamored that seeing pictures of Cas made him breathless. 

And then pictures of Dean taken with Cas’s real camera, Dean mostly looking bashful when he knew the lens was on him. There’s Dean cooking in his own kitchen. There’s Dean pulling a shirt on right after they had sex -- Dean can remember that time, the way Cas looked at him while he was inside Dean, like he’d never seen anything like him before. He kissed Dean that way, too, intense and slow and savoring. There’s Dean with his face soft and sleepy. Dean just out of the shower, water dripping down his chest. Dean absorbed in one of Cas’s books. Dean sleeping on his stomach, naked with the sheets tangled at his ankles.

A couple of pictures Dean took of Cas, too, wrenching the camera away from him: Cas laughing with his head thrown back, Cas scowling and threatening Dean to return the camera, Cas shirtless and grinning, cheeks still flushed from orgasm. There are pictures from Thanksgiving of Charlie and Dorothy crowded together, Dean with a bite of pie halfway to his mouth, Benny lounged back on the couch while Garth threw his hands around in an enthusiastic storytelling. 

Dean’s throat is full of rocks. He knows Cas was putting it together for him before, wonders if it might have been part of the Christmas present Cas wanted to give to him in private. 

Dean throws the shirts and the books and even the tapes in the trash. They belonged at Cas’s, and they would forever be out of place in his house. He tells himself to throw away the pictures, too, but instead shoves them in the drawer of his dresser where all his family photos are kept, Mary and John and Dean and Sam before everything fell apart, a chronology of Sam growing up with his hair longer as each year passes, the Impala. Photos that all say  _ home _ . 

 

**Dean:** I know you’re a big baby worrier so I just wanted to let you know I made it home in one piece

**Sam:** Feeling better? 

**Dean:** No    
**Dean:** But whatever

 

Dean drinks enough that he starts switching up which liquor stores he goes to so the clerks don’t get too familiar with him at any one place. He resists buying more than one bottle at a time, like he thinks that’ll slow him down, but it doesn’t really matter. 

He goes back to work. It’s work, and sometimes it’s distracting, but he has a lot of drive time to spend in his own head. Every time his phone buzzes, his throat catches as he hopes it’s Cas. He used to think his bed was comfortable but he might as well be trying to sleep on the floor as much as he tosses and turns, the empty space next to him too wide and cold. 

One night, he’s particularly drunk and exhausted and can’t resist the urge to attempt a phone call to Cas. He doesn’t really expect Cas to answer, and he doesn’t, the phone just rings and rings until voicemail picks up. 

“Cas,” Dean says, willing his words not to slur. “Cas, miss you so much -- I always knew I wasn’t good enough for you, not really, but -- just wanted to pretend, Cas, wish you were here. I -- fuck. It’s ok, I get it, why you wouldn’t want to be with me. I wouldn’t want to either. I’m too fucked up and stupid but it’s just… I knew -- I don’t know, I thought -- maybe… maybe I loved you. Maybe I could. You made me think I could. I never wanted anything more than you, you know? Just you. And I just -- I hope you’re ok. Please be ok.” 

It’s so fucking tacky to drunk dial your ex, but Dean doesn’t take the option to delete the voicemail before sending, just lets it go and turns his music back on, as loud as his speaker will go, trying to drown out whatever is happening inside him. 

 

**Sam:** Dude are you ok? 

**Dean:** What do you mean

**Sam:** Charlie said you’re ignoring her.

**Dean:** I hate that you guys are friends   
**Dean:** Just stay out of my business   
**Dean:** Fuck you guys 

**Sam:** Are you drinking? 

**Dean:** No

**Sam:** No like not right this second but in general. 

**Dean:** It’s fine 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dean,_
> 
> _I’m sorry it’s so late, but this is the second half of your Christmas gift. It’s not a question or a promise, just something for you to remember me by when we’re apart. I hope you’ll accept it._
> 
> _Please call if you’d like to see me again._
> 
> _Cas_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content note** : Discussions of Cas's past, including childhood/transition and some fucked up transphobic stuff.

Dean gets another package. It’s from Cas. Dean doesn’t open it immediately -- he really doesn’t want to see more evidence of all the ways he’d worked his way into Cas’s life and all the things he’s now lost. He even considers trashing it without opening it at all, but he’s weak, so he slices it open after a couple days of it sitting menacingly on his breakfast bar counter. 

He’s not drunk when he opens it. The day before, he was so hungover -- probably still drunk, to be honest -- that Bobby sent him home, saying (correctly) that Dean was in no state to be driving around and handling other people’s vehicles. So he let the hangover work itself out and didn’t go for the half-bottle sitting on top of his fridge. 

His head is still pounding, but he figures now is of good as a time as any to get this over with. 

It’s a small package, and there’s a folded piece of paper on top. He’s curious what’s in the little bag below it, because this is definitely not something he left at Cas’s, but he opens the letter first. It’s written in Cas’s hasty scrawl. 

_ Dean,  _

_ I’m sorry it’s so late, but this is the second half of your Christmas gift. It’s not a question or a promise, just something for you to remember me by when we’re apart. I hope you’ll accept it.  _

_ Please call if you’d like to see me again. _

_ Cas _

Dean’s hands start shaking. He reads it three times.  _ Please call _ . He almost does it immediately but decides to actually open the little felt bag at the bottom first. 

He pulls open the drawstring and dumps the contents out in his hand. It’s a ring, thick silver band with a groove around the middle. It fits perfectly on his finger -- he wonders how Cas knew.

_ Not a question _ . Ok, not… not that. Dean switches the ring to his right hand, blushing that he even thought maybe -- but Cas would do that in person. And not when they’d only been seeing each other for a handful of months and apart for what feels like Dean’s whole life. 

He stares at the ring and picks up his phone. It’s late enough in the evening that Cas should be home by now, probably pinching the bridge of his nose in between reading essays. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas answers, just like he always does, but Dean thinks he sounds a little hopeful. 

“I got your package,” Dean says, like it’s not obvious by the phone call. “Both of them.” 

“And you called.” 

“I -- yeah. Did you think I wouldn’t?” 

Cas laughs softly. “In an infinite universe, anything could happen.” 

“You answered.” 

“That I did.” 

There’s a long silence that Dean thinks should be awkward but it really isn’t, just listening to each other breathe. Dean breaks it first. “Cas, I -- I’m so fucking sorry -- I fucked up so bad --” 

“It wasn’t your fault. It was wrong of me to blame you and  _ I’m _ sorry.” 

“No, no, I should’ve -- I don’t know -- but something. Something else.” 

“Sam said you didn’t know that he knew.” 

“You talked to Sam? When?” 

“Last week.” 

“How did he even…?” 

“Charlie gave him my number. Dean, do you remember the voicemail you left me? I know you were very drunk.” 

Ashamed, Dean says, “Yeah, I remember.” 

“You said you could love me.” 

“I -- yeah. I’m sorry.” 

“Are you sorry because you didn’t mean it?” Cas says. Even far apart, Dean can hear the masked apprehension in his voice. 

“I mean it,” Dean says quietly. 

“Are you available on Saturday? I’d like to visit.” 

Dean looks around his house. It looks like a depressed crazy drunk person lives there, which is pretty accurate but definitely not something he needs Cas to see. “I gotta clean up a little,” he says, “so maybe like six?” 

 

Dean sets his alarm for early on Saturday, even though he always wakes up early anyway and it really won’t take him more than a few hours to handle his twelve hundred square feet, even with as dirty as he feels like it is. 

He cleans hard, down to the details of mopping (which he, honestly, doesn’t do enough during the best of times) and making his bed, despite having zero expectations of Cas even seeing it. He takes a long shower, scrubbing himself raw and even conditioning his hair, and picks a button-up he knows Cas likes on him. Maybe it’s stupid, making it so obvious how badly he wants to impress Cas, how eager he is to even  _ lay eyes  _ on Cas, but he can’t find it within himself to care. 

Dean starts pacing anxiously half an hour before their agreed-upon time, and only grows more and more nervous as minutes past after six. Cas has changed his mind, Dean’s suddenly sure, and Dean’s chest constricts so hard he briefly entertains the idea of an early heart attack. 

It’s fifteen past when his doorbell rings. “Construction traffic” is the first thing Cas says, and then, “Hello, Dean.” 

Dean goes weak in the knees. Cas looks -- holy shit. He’s clean-shaven, showing off the line of his jaw, the small cleft in his chin, but his hair is in disarray just like always, and he’s wearing one of Dean’s t-shirts. One that he, apparently, didn’t send back in his initial package. Even if Dean had been looking at the photo album of them far too often than was really healthy, no pictures could capture Cas’s actual blinding presence. 

“Cas,” Dean says breathlessly. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Dean steps back out of the doorway but Cas passes close enough that Dean can smell him, his shampoo, his aftershave, something underneath that’s just Cas’s skin. 

Cas looks around, arching an eyebrow at Dean when he clearly notices the freshly-scrubbed nature of the place. Dean flushes and looks down. After his quick inspection, Cas takes a seat at one of Dean’s couches, his posture a little stiff. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Dean says, because he’s a polite host and because he has no idea what else to say. 

“Water is fine.” 

Dean makes up a glass and brings it to him. Their fingers touch, just briefly, as the glass exchanges hands. Dean’s breath catches. 

Dean sits down on the other couch, staring at Cas but not sure what to say. He’s saved by Cas speaking up first. “Your brother said that the two of you used to tell each other everything.” 

“Didn’t really stay in one place long enough to have friends other than each other.” 

Cas tilts his head to the side. “You don’t talk about your childhood much.” 

“Not a lot to say.” 

Cas smiles, small. “I would disagree.” 

Dean looks down. “Is that -- is that what you wanted to talk about? Is that why you came?” 

“No,” Cas says. “I asked you not to out me, but it only occurred to me after Sam said something that you might not want to keep secrets from him.” 

“I promised you,” Dean says. “I would never -- not even Sam --”

“I know that now. Thank you.” Cas takes a deep breath. “I don’t talk about my childhood a lot, either.” 

“It’s ok. I don’t want to pry.” 

“It’s hard to talk about,” Cas says, “for a lot of reasons. I haven’t told anyone about it for a long time.” 

“You don’t have to --” 

“Yes, I do.” Cas takes a moment, like he’s collecting his words, and Dean just waits. “They called me Elle. Well, Gabe called me Cassie, but I get the feeling he would’ve done that anyway.” 

Dean feels weird imagining Cas as anything but  _ Cas _ . Keeps waiting. 

“As early as I can remember, I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I didn’t want to be soft like Anna. I knew I was attracted to men, but the idea of being sexual with one… horrified me. I didn’t even try until I was twenty-two, and then only just the once, after I’d started to suspect that I would not ever really be a woman. I’d been trying. I grew out my hair and put on makeup and wore a lot of dresses. It was easy to avoid men, though, because people could always intuit that there was something not quite right with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Dean says. 

“I believe I was twenty-four the first time I heard of a female-to-male trans person. I’d heard of trans women before, but mostly just whispered words about perverts in women’s clothing. Which, by the way, is not --” 

“I know, Cas.” 

Cas drops his head into his hands, takes a deep breath. “It just clicked. I finally knew, at least inside my head, what I could never quite pinpoint. I’d always thought -- well, a lot of women hate their bodies, for a lot of reasons, and I thought that’s what was wrong with me, too. After that I cut my hair off again. I wore different bras so my chest was flatter instead of accentuated. I bought men’s clothing and wore it when I thought I could get away with it. I stopped letting my mother goad me into being a perfect young lady.” 

“I can’t imagine you like that.” 

“You haven’t wondered?” 

Dean shrugs. “Not really.” 

Cas gives Dean a long, silent look. Dean has no idea what Cas is thinking. “I used to -- sometimes I would put socks in the front of my jeans and just look in the mirror, imagining. But I was so fucking ashamed. I’d spent my whole life being told that God was a perfect God, the kind who doesn’t make mistakes. It felt like it was somehow my fault that I couldn’t get a handle on this…  _ thing _ .”

Dean wants, maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life, to go to Cas and wrap him up in his arms and promise him that Dean will always take care of him. That he never has to feel alone again. 

“I also started to realize that, if I really was a man, then I was a  _ gay _ man, and that made it even worse.” 

“I didn’t. Um. I fooled around with some guys when I was a teenager but I didn’t really -- for a long time I just pretended it had never happened. My dad…” Dean trails off, has no idea how to finish that sentence. “He caught me once. It didn’t go well. I stopped after that.” 

“That was one of the times he hit you.” 

“He didn’t want me to be a sissy.” 

“Were you out to him when he died?” 

Dean is ashamed to say, “Not really. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t dated guys, but we just acted like it wasn’t happening and he had no idea even if it was. Not that -- I mean, I don’t date a lot in general.” 

“You don’t think you deserve to be loved.” 

Dean looks away. 

Cas gets up, walks around the coffee table, raises his hand as if to touch Dean’s face, but stops himself. “Can I kiss you?” 

Dean looks up, and whatever expression he’s wearing is answer enough, because Cas cradles his cheek and leans down to give him a soft kiss. Dean hasn’t been touched by anyone in months and he didn’t realize how much he missed the easy physical affection he and Cas shared until that exact moment. 

Cas lets out a shaky breath and is smiling when he pulls back. Instead of going back to the other couch, he sits next to Dean, their knees bumping. “My relationship with my family had never been perfect, but things became more strained the more I strayed from the path they’d expected of me. Even so, I didn’t really consider actually transitioning until twenty-eight. It was a lot harder to get HRT then, lots of hoops to jump through, and I almost gave up so many times. I avoided them as much as I could but -- I kept running out of excuses to not come to family gatherings. At one of them I wore men’s clothing and told them I wasn’t Elle anymore. They were… disgusted, to put it mildly.” 

Dean reaches for Cas’s hand and weaves their fingers together. Cas gives him a small, grateful smile. 

“Even Anna -- she was the one I was closest too, and I thought she would at least try to support me -- she couldn’t look me in the eye. My mother quoted scripture. I can’t even remember which verses; I’m not sure it really processed at the time. I went back to my apartment and considered -- I never wanted this for myself, and I thought it would be easier to be dead.” 

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean says, pressing his forehead against Cas’s temple and closing his eyes tight to push back tears. 

“My mother called the next day and said I was no longer welcome in their home. Michael was vindictive and, while he said he was concerned for the welfare of the children in my care, he was ultimately more concerned with the way I could destroy the family reputation if they didn’t distance themselves from me immediately. I lost my family, my job, and my friends all in the span of about two weeks.” 

“Jesus,” Dean repeats, squeezing Cas’s hand. 

“But I survived and was able to start T the following year. It was -- the results vary so greatly from person to person, but I started passing within nine months. It doesn’t hurt that I’m tall.” 

“Did it help? Does it help?” 

“Passing? It’s a lot less dangerous than the alternative.” 

“No, I mean -- yeah, that -- but do you feel -- more like yourself?” 

Cas does the head-tilt thing, considering. “Usually, yes.” 

“But not always.” 

“Do you always feel like yourself?” 

Dean almost says,  _ only with you _ , but what a fucking stupid thing to say. “Not always.” 

“I went to Georgia for a job, and it was good for several years, but I ended up dating another teacher. A cis man. We thought we loved each other, but it didn’t end well. Suffice it to say, I lost my job and my friends. Again. I… received threats.” 

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Dean says, meaning it.

“There’s no need for violence. He wasn’t particularly smart about it and outed himself as gay in the process. I shouldn’t wish that on anyone, but it seems like an appropriate punishment.” 

Dean can’t help but smirk. 

“Vengeful is not a good look on you, Dean,” Cas says, but he’s smiling, too. 

“And then you, um. Met me.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you thought I did the same thing that guy did.” 

“Yes.” 

“Fuck,” Dean says. “I would’ve walked out on me, too.” 

“I should’ve given you a chance to explain, not waited for Sam to do it.” They share a smile, the one Dean recognizes now as their private lover’s smile, and Cas looks down at their hands touching. “You’re wearing it,” he says. 

“Of course I am,” Dean says. “You got it for me.” 

“I wasn’t sure you would accept it, after what happened. Sam said you weren’t handling it well.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sometimes Sam needs to mind his own business.” 

“You’ve been drinking,” Cas says, not even bothering to make a question out of it. 

“I’ll stop. I swear.” 

Cas nods, like he doesn’t have any questions about that, either. 

“Hey, um,” Dean says, suddenly nervous again. “Can I give you your Christmas present, too? It’s not -- I don’t know if you’ll want it. But I want to give it to you anyway.” 

“Sure,” Cas says. 

“Can you wait outside? It’s not where it belongs yet.” 

Cas quirks an eyebrow but goes out the back door to lean against the house, looking gorgeous in the dying spring light. Dean just drinks him in, probably a few beats too long. Dean says, “No peeking.” 

“No peeking,” Cas agrees. 

Dean has to shove some stuff around in the spare bedroom before he can even access the trunk, so it takes a couple minutes before it’s situated at the end of his bed. It makes his room seem a lot smaller but also seem a lot more like home. 

“This kind of requires some explaining,” Dean says, not quite leading Cas into his room yet. “I got this before Christmas, but especially after what happened, I’m really glad I did. I just really wanted you to have space of your own here. I cleaned out part of my closet too, but you can put a lock on this so you can keep some of the stuff you don’t like me seeing.” Dean stammers over his words, blushing, and backs into the bedroom with Cas following curiously. 

Cas’s eyes land on the trunk immediately, but his face is carefully blank. “You wanted me to have space here.” 

“Yeah, I -- I mean, clothes? Meds? I thought maybe you’d want another harness so you don’t have to pack it all the time. Just -- I don’t know, whatever you wanted.” 

Cas kneels next to it, unsnapping the latches and looking inside. There’s a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans he left around at some point or another that Dean had forgotten he’d already put in there, but it’s otherwise empty. Cas closes the trunk slowly before standing up and looking at Dean. “You wanted me to have space here,” Cas repeats. 

“I’m sorry, it’s stupid,” Dean says. 

Cas shakes his head minutely, approaching Dean again. He puts a hand on either side of Dean’s face and kisses him, thoroughly but gently, making Dean’s head spin. “You’re a wonderful man, Dean. What have I done to deserve you?” Before Dean can respond, Cas puts his fingers over Dean’s mouth. “If you argue, I will walk out the door.” 

“Ok,” Dean says. 

Cas pulls him in for another kiss. “I love it. Thank you.” Cas stares into his eyes for a long moment, then says, “I love  _ you _ .” 

“Cas,” Dean whispers, a hard tremor running through his body. “Missed you so much.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Cas,” Dean says, his hand stroking through Cas’s hair. “Fuck, your mouth.”_
> 
> _“You can do that if you want, but you’re still not allowed to come until I say so.”_

They make dinner and Dean finds it surprisingly easy to just take things up with Cas like they’d never left off, bumping his hip as they stand next to each other at the counter, putting a hand on his lower back as Dean moves around him to the fridge, leaning over to give him a quick kiss that never fails to make Cas smile brightly. 

“Did you, um, want to stay tonight?” Dean asks, trying for casual. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve got breakfast scheduled with a friend tomorrow.” 

Dean’s heart pounds. “A friend?” 

“Dean, I just told you I love you. And it’s a woman.” 

Dean blushes. “Sorry, I just --” 

“Thought I would get over you that quickly?” 

“I guess.” 

Cas pushes his food around his plate. “I thought I was angry enough that it would be easy. It wasn’t.” 

“Do you have to go after this or do you want to stick around for a bit? Maybe watch something?” 

“I would like that very much,” Cas says. 

They sit close on the couch but Dean is just happy to hold Cas’s hand. Cas won’t stop rubbing his thumb over Dean’s ring, and just when Dean is about to ask what he’s thinking about, he’s got a lapful of Cas and a mouthful of his tongue. 

Cas pauses in his assault, though his hips keep grinding against Dean, to say, “Can I suck you?” 

“Um,” Dean says, brain short-circuiting. “I mean, shit, yes.” 

Cas climbs down to the floor between Dean’s knees and wastes no time getting Dean’s cock out into the cool air. “I missed you too, you know,” Cas says, smirking upwards. 

Dean can’t take his eyes off of Cas, forcing himself to keep watching even when his eyes want to close when Cas does  _ that thing _ with his tongue.

Just before Dean is about to come, Cas pulls off with a wet pop and squeezes his fingers around the base of Dean’s dick. “Cas,” Dean whimpers. 

“Not yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“I want you to beg.” 

Dean blushes and bites his lip. Cas has reduced him to begging plenty before, but Dean’s always embarrassed and a little ashamed of it afterwards. Cas doesn’t give him a chance to contemplate that too much before lowering his head again, sucking Dean in until Dean’s cock hits the back of his throat. It’s ridiculous how little it takes for Dean to be close to coming again -- god, it seems like forever since the last time he had Cas like this -- but Cas knows his tells and pulls off again. 

“Cas,” Dean says, his hand stroking through Cas’s hair. “Fuck, your mouth.” 

“You can do that if you want, but you’re still not allowed to come until I say so.”

“Yeah, ok,” Dean says, and when Cas starts to sink back down, Dean raises his hips to meet him halfway. “Jesus,” Dean says, and then again when Cas hums happily around him, “Jesus.” 

Cas lets Dean fuck upwards into his mouth, just holding suction with his lips and tongue, and Cas doesn’t sputter when Dean hits the back of his throat every few strokes. 

“God, fuck, fuck,” Dean says, and Cas pulls back again, looking up at Dean with hooded eyes.

“How bad do you want it?” 

“Please,” Dean whispers. 

Cas tilts his head, considering. “No.” 

Cas takes over again, taking Dean deep and hollowing his cheeks as he sucks. He jerks and tugs at Dean’s jeans until they are further down his thighs, then reaches up and shoves his first two fingers into Dean’s mouth. Dean moans around them and sucks just like he knows Cas wants him to. Cas pumps them in and out a few times, pressing down on Dean’s tongue, before withdrawing and sliding his hand between Dean’s legs. 

At the first circle of a wet finger around his hole, Dean arches upwards into Cas’s mouth, and with Cas’s fingers so close but not actually going in, Dean loses his mind a little and does start begging. “Fuck, Cas -- please -- I need you to -- I need --  _ please _ .” 

On the next downstroke, Cas really does take all of Dean in his mouth, swallowing at the same time that he slides a slick finger into him. Dean comes so hard he sees stars, Cas just swallowing eagerly around him, his finger slowly working in and out. 

Cas sits up and there’s a smear of come at the corner of his mouth. Dean leans down to kiss it away. “Was that -- was I supposed to…?” 

“Perfect,” Cas says, pulling him down for another kiss. “You’re perfect.”

 

**Cas:** Good morning. I forgot to thank you for the pictures you sent. 

**Dean:** I don’t know what I was thinking

**Cas:** It was nice, in a way, like when we met. I didn’t recognize all the places. Will you tell me about it sometime? 

**Dean:** I would’ve actually enjoyed it with you 

**Cas:** We can go back. Did you go to the Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo? 

**Dean:** I didn’t make it up that direction

**Cas:** How far from you? 8 hours? 

**Dean:** Ish. Maybe we can do a long weekend of it this summer

**Cas:** :-) 

 

**Dean:** I fucking hate you   
**Dean:** but thanks

**Sam** : Love you too, bro

 

**Dean:** Spring break is next week? 

**Cas:** Yes, thank god.

**Dean:** I have to work but if you wanted to stay with me for some of it   
**Dean:** I mean however much you want    
**Dean:** Charlie wants to hang out with you too    
**Dean:** It’s too soon isn’t it? I shouldn’t have asked

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Hey, Cas.” 

“Are you inviting me for the week?” 

“Yeah, I guess. If you wanted.”

“Hmm,” Cas says. “Should I torture you by pretending to think about it?” 

“You’re kind of a dick, so it wouldn’t surprise me.” 

Cas laughs. “Of course I want to spend the week with you. Frankly, waking up next to you is the best part of my week as it is.” 

“You say that like I lay around in bed waiting for your lazy ass to get up.” 

“But seriously, I have a thing in Austin on Wednesday anyway, so that will be perfect. Maybe if you asked nicely Bobby would let you get off early a couple days.” 

“Ah,” Dean says, blushing. “I haven’t been very well-behaved the last few months, so I probably shouldn’t push my luck.” 

“Am I going to have to punish you?” 

Dean blushes deeper for an entirely different reason. “Um.” 

“I have a gift for you in my box. I just hadn’t decided when to give it to you.” 

“You don’t have to --” 

“You don’t even know what it is yet. It’s in a black bag on the left side.” 

“I don’t want to go through your things,” Dean says. 

“That’s very admirable, but I’m telling you to. Go get it.” 

Dean is standing over the chest, undoing the latches, and Cas says, “Wait. Is now a good time? I want to hear you come.” 

“Yeah, Cas. We can do that.” 

“Get your present. Put me on speakerphone. Take off your clothes.” 

“Are you taking yours off, too?” 

“I was home hours ago, therefore I’ve been nude for hours.” 

Dean grins, closing his eyes for a brief moment to imagine Cas naked and spread out in bed. “You gonna touch yourself too?” 

“Depends on how well you do for me.” Cas is quiet for a moment while Dean looks around in the box. “You like when I say things like that,” Cas says. “When I tell you how good you are.” 

“Stop, Cas.” 

“No. Did you find it yet?” 

“Yeah, I got it. I, um, just feel weird, I know you don’t really like me seeing this stuff.” 

“Stop worrying. Open the bag.” 

“Jesus,” Dean says, laughing to cover up the flutter in his stomach. “Pink, really?” 

“I’m sorry, was that not a manly enough color for your first vibrator? There are batteries in the bag, too.” 

“Ok. Hang on.” Dean tosses the phone on the bed and pulls out of his clothes, probably a little too eagerly. “Speaker on, clothes off.” 

“Batteries in?” 

“Working on it.” 

“Tell me, Dean. What do you usually think about when you jerk off?” 

“You,” Dean says, fumbling the battery cover back on. 

“What about me? What did you think about last night?” 

“I, um. That one time you held my wrists down while you fucked me.” 

Cas makes a soft noise, not quite a moan. “You liked that very much. Do you want me to do that to you again?” 

“I guess.” 

“Yes or no, Dean.” 

“Yes,” Dean says, and then, because he knows Cas likes to hear it: “Please, Cas.” 

“You know I’ll do just about anything to make you feel good.” 

“Me too.” 

“You’re so sweet, Dean. Are you hard?” 

“Yeah. Are you?” 

“Yes. You’re not allowed to touch your cock yet. Get your vibrator wet and put it in you. Slowly, like I would. You’re too rough with yourself.” 

“You’re rough with me, too.” 

“Not tonight,” Cas says. “Tonight we’re just going to play with your new toy, nice and easy. Don’t turn the vibration on yet. Just… in and out. Nice and easy.” 

The vibrator isn’t very big, long and thin, so it slides into Dean with hardly any resistance. “What do you think about?” he says, breath already picking up speed. 

“Hmm,” Cas says. “I’m not going to tell you.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“No, it’s not. Turn it on the first setting.” 

The first vibrations have Dean’s hips jerking, more from surprise than anything. Dean adjusts the angle a little and chokes out, “ _ Oh _ .” 

“Do you like that?” 

“Fuck, yes.” Dean grinds down on the toy, his other hand clenching his stomach just above the leaking tip of his cock. 

“Turn it up and tell me how it feels.” 

“Ok,” Dean says. He pushes the little button with a fingernail and shivers as the vibrations intensify. “It feels -- it feels really fucking good. Do you have one? For yourself?” 

“I’m using it now.” 

“Holy fuck,” Dean whispers. “I guess I’ll be thinking about that next time I jerk off.” 

“A little faster, Dean. I want to hear you moan for me.” 

Dean is starting to get really good at doing what Cas tells him to do, and it’s only moments before he’s moaning shamelessly, drowning out the noise of the toy inside him. 

“Good,” Cas says. “Turn it up higher and find that angle where it’s right up against --” Dean keens, hips bucking off the bed. “There you go,” Cas says. “Rub right there.” 

“Can I -- will you let me --” 

“Yes, Dean. You can touch your dick now. After you turn up the vibrator again.” 

“Christ, how many -- how many settings does this thing even have?” 

“Several.” 

“Fuck,” Dean says, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking loosely. “Fuck, Cas, I’m close, so close.” 

On the other end of the line, Cas’s breath is harsh and his voice nearly a growl. “Come for me, Dean.” 

“Jesus,” Dean groans, coming all over his fist and stomach. He keeps up with the vibrator, making his dick twitch a few more times, until it’s so sensitive it’s painful. 

Cas follows just a moment later, moaning  _ Dean, Dean, Dean _ as he comes. Dean turns off the vibrator and tosses it somewhere, hearing it roll off the bed and clatter to the floor. 

Cas says, “I’m hanging up now, and you’re going to send me a picture of you covered in come.” 

Dean laughs. “Ok, Cas, I can do that.” 

 

**Cas:** I forgot to tell you goodnight. Goodnight. I love you. 

**Dean:** Night

 

**Cas:** Talking about the things I fantasize about is… complicated. 

**Dean:** Why? 

**Cas:** I have a different body in most of them. 

**Dean:** I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable 

**Cas:** It’s not your fault. I’m just not sure how to share that. 

**Dean:** You don’t have to. But you know I’m not like going to judge you 

**Cas:** I’d love to know what it would feel like to choke you with my cock. 

**Dean:** Jesus

**Cas:** Until your eyes water.    
**Cas:** You would like that. 

**Dean:** I would like anything you did to me tbh

**Cas:** Good boy. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dean thinks, still unbelieving,_ I get to keep him.
> 
>  _And then:_ I fucking love him.

Cas shows up Saturday evening, still in flannel pants and one of Dean’s t-shirts and generally looking like hell warmed over. 

“Aww, baby’s got a hangover,” Dean says, grinning.

“Can you not speak so loudly?” 

“Go sit down. I made you soup.” 

“I hate soup.” 

“Get over it. Anyway, you’re not going to hate  _ my  _ soup.” 

Cas frowns dubiously but hits the couch anyway, slouching down with an arm over his eyes. Dean putters around in the kitchen putting together two bowls of soup with plenty of crackers on the side, glancing up every few seconds just to look at Cas, as miserable as he may look at that exact moment. Dean thinks, still unbelieving,  _ I get to keep him. _

And then:  _ I fucking love him. _

Dean is blushing when he takes the food over to Cas, but Cas doesn’t seem to notice, just glares at the soup like it has personally caused him this pain. “Eat,” Dean says. “Or I will force feed this to you.” 

“I’m stronger than you,” Cas says, taking the first bite. 

“Keep telling yourself that. It’s not like you’re in a state to try to prove it.” 

Cas grumbles something, dips a cracker in. For someone who hates soup, he goes through it pretty fast, drinking the last of the broth straight from the bowl. 

Dean can’t stop smiling. Something about feeding Cas makes Dean extra warm inside, a tremble around his heart. “Verdict?” 

Cas scowls but says, “Fine, that was pretty good.” 

Dean leaves a kiss on the soft spot at Cas’s temple. “Get up, I’ll pull the bed out. Parks & Rec?” 

“That would be nice. Quietly.” 

On the pull-out bed, Dean wraps around Cas from behind, kissing the back of his neck softly. “That Meg’s a wild one, huh?” 

“There was a lot of rum,” Cas says, settling deeper into Dean’s arms. “She tried to kiss me.” 

“Oh,” Dean says. 

“You’re always so unsure of yourself. Over a woman even.” Cas puts a hand over Dean’s where it rests on Cas’s stomach. “How can you even entertain the idea that I might be receptive?” 

“Because you’re -- and I’m -- fuck, I don’t know.” 

“I love who you are. Very much.” 

Dean presses his face in between Cas’s shoulder blades, trying to find enough bravery in himself to just fucking  _ say it _ , but he’s always been a coward. 

“I’m a little sad that Meg and I probably can’t be friends any longer.”

“Because she has a crush on you?” 

“Because she knows I have you and did it anyway. She’s not much of a friend if she thinks so little of me. What would you do if one of your friends tried to kiss you?” 

“I would not be, ah, ‘receptive.’” 

“Good,” Cas says, squeezing Dean’s hand. “You’re mine now.” 

 

Sundays are Dean’s favorite. He always dozes a little longer than usual and Cas always wakes up a little earlier so they can trade lazy kisses and touches, not even trying to take it anywhere, just happy to be together. 

They usually take a shower while the coffee is brewing, and sometimes that  _ does  _ go somewhere, Cas holding Dean face-first against the tile while he fingers Dean open, slow strokes that make Dean completely insane. Cas whispers filthy things into his ear, all the things he’s going to do to Dean later, even though they don’t spend nearly as much time fucking on Sundays as they do on Saturdays. It doesn’t feel so urgent -- after a week apart, Dean can’t keep his hands off of Cas, but on a Sunday it’s easy to pretend they have all the time in the world. 

There’s a brunch place in Austin they really like where Cas can get a fucking salad or whatever when he wants to, so they often end up there just before the church crowd shows up, ankles twined together under the table. Dean knows they are kind of gross, has caught their usual server smiling wistfully at them a few times, but he can’t bring himself to care. Sometimes Charlie and Dorothy join them so Dean has a good excuse to drape his arm over the back of the booth with Cas next to him. In College Station, Dean makes breakfast and doesn’t need an excuse to sit close to Cas. 

Dean wants to give everything to Cas, anything he can, even the little things, so he lets Cas pick a movie and they nap together on the couch, way too tight of a space on Cas’s couch and not much better on Dean’s. The aching muscles are worth it for moments like that. 

Cas is always swamped with grading but Dean is happy to stay quiet in the evenings while Cas works his way through tests and essays, just revelling in his company, catching himself smiling when Cas mutters out loud about whatever he’s reading. Dean goes through a lot of books that way, too, more than he’s read in a long time as he slowly makes his way through Cas’s bookshelves. Some of it -- maybe a lot of it -- goes over his head, but he loves the scribbled notes Cas leaves in the margins. It feels like seeing into Cas’s head. 

This Sunday is even better, because Cas will still be there in the morning, and Dean kisses his way down Cas’s body until he can get his mouth on Cas. Dean draws it out as long as he can, backing off every time Cas’s breath gets too shaky until Cas says, a warning in his tone, “ _ Dean _ ,” and Dean gets to it, doing all the things that make Cas come the hardest. 

Cas insisted he would not be waking up at dawn with Dean, that he wouldn’t even be running the whole week so he could sleep in, but he still stumbles out of bed to join Dean for a cup of coffee before Dean has to run out the door. 

“Have a good day,” Cas says grumpily. 

Dean kisses his forehead, grinning, and says, “Go back to bed.” 

 

It’s too fast before the week is half over. 

**Dean:** What’s the thing you’re doing today? 

**Cas:** Just a lunch thing. Then meeting up with Charlie. 

**Dean** : What kind of LUNCH THING? 

**Cas:** I’m not going to tell you, so don’t bother asking again. 

**Dean:** Is it bad?

**Cas:** It’s not bad. I’d just rather not talk about it yet. 

**Dean:** Hmmmm 

**Cas:** You wouldn’t be able to guess if you tried, so don’t bother with that, either.

 

**Cas:** The lunch thing went well, I think. 

**Dean:** Should we be celebrating? 

**Cas:** I believe so. 

**Dean:** I’ll pick up some wine on the way home. And steak   
**Dean:** Even salad 

**Cas:** You are silly and wonderful. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Cas:** I want you to fuck me tonight._

**Cas:** I want you to fuck me tonight. 

Dean’s on what should be his last run of the day, just loaded up a shiny SUV, but he just sits staring at his phone while the engine idles. 

They’ve talked about it. Dean has thought about it. But when they actually get into bed (or on the couch, or bent over the kitchen table, or scraping up their knees on the floor), Cas is always intent on making Dean beg and scream, and Dean certainly isn’t complaining about  _ that _ , so they haven’t actually done it yet. 

**Dean:** Really? 

**Cas:** Yes, really. 

Dean can see Cas rolling his eyes and it makes him smile. 

**Dean:** Yeah   
**Dean:** We can do that 

**Cas:** Do you have condoms? 

**Dean:** They’re probably expired 

**Cas:** I’ll get some. 

 

Cas is on the couch bent over his laptop when Dean gets home. Dean pauses in the doorway just to look at him, time losing all meaning until Cas says, “Stop staring,” and glances up at Dean with a smile. 

“Sorry,” Dean says, not meaning it at all. 

“And stop being nervous.” 

“I’m not,” Dean says, and that’s a lie, too.

Cas laughs, getting up to meet Dean halfway as Dean comes into the house. Cas grabs Dean by the hair and pulls him down for a deep, slow kiss. Dean crowds closer, backing Cas towards the wall, but Cas stops him with a sharp tug to the hair. “Go take a shower. Then dinner. Then you can get feisty.” 

“I slave away all day and then still have to make dinner?” Dean says, trying to lean forward again, mostly just to feel the sting in his scalp as Cas holds him away.

“Yes. Go.” 

 

They kiss for a long time, legs tangled together and Cas’s fingertips tracing up and down Dean’s spine under his shirt, but eventually Dean’s mouth drifts to Cas’s jaw, loving the scrape of stubble against his lips. Dean takes it slow, though, nuzzling against Cas’s neck, pulling his shirt off to kiss along his perfect shoulders, sliding his hands down to cradle his hips. It’s not often that Cas just lets Dean worship him like this and Dean plans to take full advantage. 

“God, Cas,” Dean whispers as he kisses his way down Cas’s chest.

“Yes?” 

“Never been like this with anyone.” It’s not the first time Dean has said it and probably won’t be the last, but Cas still shivers underneath him.

“I love you,” Cas says, stroking his fingers through Dean’s hair. 

Dean closes his eyes tight and hides his face against Cas’s stomach. He’s going to say it. He  _ will _ , cowardice be damned. But he doesn’t want to say it when he’s hard and starting to feel a little desperate to be inside Cas, feels like that’s a little cheap, even if he means it. 

Instead, Dean strips off Cas’s pants, leaving a kiss at each of his hip bones. “I’m not going to break,” Cas says, smiling. 

“You’re careful with me.” 

Cas strokes his hand over Dean’s cheek. “No one has ever touched you carefully before. I want to give that to you.” 

Dean leans up to kiss Cas. He tastes sweet and hums happily against Dean’s mouth. 

“You need to take your clothes off,” Cas says when they part. 

Dean sits back on his heels to pull off his shirt, shimmy out of his jeans. Cas watches this appreciatively before turning over on his hands and knees and handing the bottle of lube to Dean. If there’s such a thing as too much lube, Dean uses it, coating his fingers fully before even thinking about getting a hand on him. Dean’s a little disappointed he can’t see Cas’s face, but it’s really nice to kiss the dimples on Cas’s lower back as he slides a finger in. 

God, he’s really tight and burning hot inside. Dean had almost forgotten what it’s like to open someone up with his fingers, and he’s a little awed now like he was the first time, however many millions of years ago that was. 

Cas sighs softly as Dean gets a second finger in and he rocks back into Dean. “Ok?” Dean says, mouth at the base of Cas’s spine. 

“I’m not going to break,” Cas repeats, throwing a smile over his shoulder. 

For that, Dean gives a handful of rough strokes before -- careful again -- he pushes in a third finger, using his thumb to continue spreading lube around the outside of Cas’s hole. Cas moans, breathes harshly, says, “Dean” in that commanding tone. 

“Yeah,” Dean says, “ok. Yeah.” 

Dean licks his lips and withdraws his fingers slowly, momentarily mesmerized by the way Cas’s hole flutters with nothing to stretch it open. Cas shoots another look over his shoulder, this one saying  _ hurry up _ , and Dean grabs a condom off the nightstand. Condoms are a pain in the ass at the best of times but Dean’s hands are shaking a little and that doesn’t help. 

After what seems like forever, Dean has his hand gripping Cas’s hip and is guiding his cock into him. Cas makes a small noise that makes Dean pause, but then Cas reaches backwards to grab his thigh to pull him deeper. 

Hips pressed up against Cas’s thighs, it’s Dean that needs a break. He drops his head to rest between Cas’s shoulder blades and concentrates on breathing. “All right back there?” Cas says. Dean can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yeah, just -- god, you feel -- just need a sec.” 

Once Dean is sure he’s not going to come  _ right this second _ , he starts to thrust into Cas. He’s not rough but he goes deep, pulling moans out of Cas’s mouth. 

“Good?” Dean says. 

“Really good,” Cas agrees. “Harder though. Like you mean it.” 

“Fuck,” Dean says. He picks it up slowly, a little harder on each stroke, until he’s grabbing Cas’s hips and jerking them backwards to meet him. Cas reaches up to grab the headboard and says Dean’s name brokenly over and over. 

As much as Dean really, really loves Cas fucking him, he could get used to the noises being punched out of Cas now. 

Dean has to pause again, breathing harshly. “Sorry, I just -- fuck, you feel good.” 

“Mmm,” Cas says. He pushes himself off his hands and backwards until he’s in Dean’s lap. Dean didn’t think he could get any deeper, but from this angle he does, and he groans into the back of Cas’s neck. 

Cas starts to ride him, slow and deep again, reaching back to grab Dean’s hair and hold him close, like there’s anything else Dean could ever want. Cas turns his head and finds Dean’s mouth, kiss inelegant because of the angle but so fucking good. 

“Cas,” Dean whimpers, mouthing along the outside of his ear. “I wanna -- wanna make you come, Cas.” 

Cas doesn’t pause the movement of his hips, just grabs Dean’s hand and guides it down his stomach. “Put your fingers in me.” 

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Dean says. “Are you sure?” 

“Just do it.” 

Dean hasn’t touched him there before, was pretty sure Cas would never ask, so he hesitates a moment before sliding his hand past Cas’s cock. Cas’s body accepts the first finger easily, and then the second, and Dean gasps like he’s the one being touched. “Holy -- holy fuck, Cas, you’re so wet.” 

Cas tips his head back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean drinks him in: eyes closed, lips parted and red, fading marks on his neck from Dean’s teeth. 

“Cas, can I…?” 

“If you don’t, I’m going to hurt you.” 

As if to emphasize, Cas jerks his hand in Dean’s hair, hard enough that Dean moans up against his ear. “God,” Dean whispers, fingers slipping in and out while Cas rides him. 

“Harder,” Cas says, breathless, a flush spreading from his cheeks down to his chest. 

Dean fucks his fingers in and out of him a little rougher, twisting his wrist to adjust the angle. Even if Cas was silent, even if his back didn’t arch so hard it must hurt, Dean can feel him tense from the inside out. “Yeah?” Dean says. “Right there?” 

“Don’t stop.” 

“Won’t,” Dean says, because even though he’s overwhelmingly close to coming, he can wait out Cas. 

It doesn’t take long, just a couple minutes of Dean rubbing insistently inside Cas, before Cas falls apart. Dean thinks he’s given Cas some pretty good orgasms before, has gotten pretty good at doing it, but nothing like this. 

“Don’t stop,” Cas says again, and Dean doesn’t, not even as the shudders running through Cas have him pulsing deep inside Cas. 

And Cas, Dean is pretty sure, comes again, riding down against Dean’s hand. Eventually he stops saying Dean’s name, stops writhing in his lap, and Dean just holds Cas tight against his chest, forehead pressed into the side of Cas’s neck. 

As their breath slows, Cas pulls off Dean to lay on his back, staring up at Dean with hooded eyes. Dean’s hands are shaking even worse now than when they started so it takes a moment to get the condom off and in the trash so he can go down next to Cas. 

Cas rolls over to face him, grabs Dean’s hand and presses Dean’s fingers against Dean’s own lips. Dean opens his mouth and sucks his fingers clean, watching Cas’s eyes darken further. Cas tastes just as good as Dean always imagined. 

Cas pulls Dean’s hand away and kisses him, slow with lots of tongue. “Fuck,” Dean says, nudging their noses against each other. “I can’t -- did that really just happen?” 

“Which part?” 

“All of it.” 

Cas smiles, a little smug for someone who just came  _ twice _ . “Yes, yes it did.” 

 

Cas’s alarm goes off early the next morning and he fucks Dean hard into the mattress. “Just in case you forgot how good it is when I fuck you,” Cas says against his ear, still draped over Dean’s back. 

Dean is late to work. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Is this really an appropriate breakfast topic, Dean?”_
> 
> _“Facefucking is always an appropriate topic.”_  
> 

Sunday night, sleeping without Cas is basically impossible. Dean stares up at the ceiling and misses the days he could just drink himself into sleep, but he doesn’t keep anything in the house since he and Cas got back together. 

In the morning, he holds his arm up to take a selfie of him and the empty spot in bed where Cas belongs. 

**Dean:** Miss you

Cas responds with a picture of his own, naked in the mirror just after a shower. 

**Cas:** Miss you too. 

 

**Dean:** Ok don’t take this the wrong way bc I am not complaining about condoms AT ALL if you even wanted to do that again but I’m just curious is BC something to worry about? 

**Cas:** HRT makes the likelihood of pregnancy low, but I also have an IUD.    
**Cas:** When was the last time you were tested? 

**Dean:** Right before we met for real. I can show you the results   
**Dean:** I haven’t been with anyone else

**Cas:** I know.    
**Cas:** I’ve been tested since the last time I was with someone else as well.    
**Cas:** And yes, I’d like to do that again. 

**Dean:** You came twice right? 

**Cas:** Yes, Dean. 

**Dean:** Not gonna lie, I’m pretty proud of that

**Cas:** Of course you are.

 

**Cas:** I’ve got a thing Friday morning in Austin. Would you mind if I stayed Thursday night and hung out at yours when I’m done? 

**Dean:** Of course I wouldn’t mind   
**Dean:** Are you going to tell me what THIS thing is? 

**Cas:** Nope. 

 

**Dean:** Do you know what Cas is hiding from me? He keeps having “things” in Austin and won’t tell me   
**Dean:** He better not have told you and not me

**Charlie:** With that kind of threat, why would I tell you even if I knew??? Which, btw, I have no idea what you’re talking about. 

**Dean:** Traitor

**Charlie:** Seriously, pinkie swear. No clue.    
**Charlie:** Do you think he’s like Up To Something? 

**Dean:** Obviously he is

**Charlie:** You better not be thinking he’s cheating on you or something because that boy is so fucking far gone for you, you have no idea. 

**Dean:** I don’t really think that   
**Dean:** I mean   
**Dean:** Idk   
**Dean:** I don’t think that

**Charlie:** Have you told him you love him yet? 

**Dean:** No

**Charlie:** But you do right???    
**Charlie:** He bought you a RING   
**Charlie:** You WEAR the ring

**Dean:** Yeah I guess it’s pretty obvious

**Charlie:** Better say it before he gets tired of your emotionally constipated ass

 

Cas is a lot less uncomfortable switching between his dicks than he was when they first started fucking, but Dean still averts his eyes, palming lazily at his own cock while he waits, at least until Cas gives him a sharp look and says, “Did I tell you that you could do that?” 

“Guess not,” Dean says, grinning and reaching for Cas. 

Instead of going into Dean’s arms, Cas grabs a pillow and drops it to the floor. “On your knees.” 

Dean goes without question, looking up at Cas through his eyelashes. Cas runs his thumb along Dean’s bottom lip and, reflexively, Dean’s mouth opens a little so Cas can press the pad of his finger onto Dean’s tongue. 

“Remember when I said I wanted to make your eyes water?” 

Dean nods.

Cas arches an eyebrow. “Well?” 

Dean can take a hint so, blushing, he slides his tongue from just under the head to the tip of Cas’s cock. It’s weird not to be able to taste arousal, to not feel the cock twitch as he takes the crown into his mouth, but he forgets to be self-conscious when Cas’s breath catches. 

Cas says, “Look at me.” 

Dean looks up as his mouth slips off Cas’s cock in an open-mouthed kiss. Cas’s eyes are already darkening, and Cas puts a hand in Dean’s hair to guide him back to Cas’s dick. 

“You’re so pretty like this, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean is blushing again. 

Dean isn’t entirely sure how he’s supposed to be doing this, but Cas can’t take his eyes off of him and that seems like indication enough that he’s doing an ok job. Cas is big and heavy on Dean’s tongue and Dean moans as he takes more of him, digging his fingernails into Cas’s hips. 

“I didn’t say you could stop looking at me.” 

Dean’s eyes jerk up again. Cas’s hand moves from in his hair to touch his face, fingertips lingering over the spit-slick corner of Dean’s lips sealed tightly around his cock. “So pretty,” Cas repeats. “But you can take more.” 

It’s been a long time since Dean has done this, but his mouth and hands remember how, wrapping his fingers around the base while his mouth goes deeper, taking as much as he can before he has to pull back a bit for air. “Mmm,” Cas says, pressing his fingers into the hollow of Dean’s cheek to feel how full he is. “I want to fuck your face. May I?” 

Dean’s eyes close, briefly before he remembers himself, and he uses the hand still on Cas’s hip to pull him closer. Cas pulls back and thrusts shallowly, just the first few inches gliding along Dean’s tongue, and then he starts to go deeper, threatening to cut off air, hands tight in Dean’s hair to hold him still. Dean’s hand slides around to Cas’s lower back to urge him more, and on the next stroke, Cas’s cock hits the back of Dean’s throat. Dean moans and Cas shudders like he can feel it. Maybe he can. 

That seems to be enough encouragement for Cas, because he starts jerking his hips faster, a little rougher. Dean tilts his head to adjust the angle -- he’s out of practice and Cas feels fucking huge so there’s no way Dean can take him all the way down his throat, but he offers what he can and Cas is more than happy to take it. Cas is careful to give Dean a chance to breathe every time he pulls out, but then he’s shoving his way back in, closing off Dean’s airway until Dean’s nearly dizzy with it. 

Dean doesn’t realize he’s crying until Cas’s hands are on either side of his face, wiping tears away with his thumbs, touch a gentle contrast to the way he’s fucking Dean’s mouth. “There you go,” he says. 

Dean pulls his hand away from Cas’s cock to grab his hip instead and Cas takes the invitation, pushing in deep, passing the ring of muscle leading into Dean’s throat. Dean’s pretty sure he’s never taken this much before, not even when he was giving a lot of blowjobs to a lot of different guys, but he manages to stay relaxed as Cas just holds himself there, wiping away more tears as they fall. 

“You’re so good,” Cas says as he starts to slowly pull back and all the way out of Dean’s mouth, Dean gasping for air but trying to chase after Cas’s cock anyway, lips still parted. Cas says, “Do you want me to fuck you now?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, voice rasping, throat a little sore from the abuse.

Even when Dean begs, Cas just fucks him slow and gentle, kissing him, whispering praise up against his ear, biting too softly to leave marks. Maybe it’s because Dean’s eyes were already primed and wet, but it makes him want to cry, the reverent way Cas touches him. 

Afterwards Cas smiles at him in the dark, sliding his hand into Dean’s. “I love you,” Cas says. 

“I -- Cas, you know I --” 

“I know.” 

 

“Do you -- like, you liked it, right? The facefucking? Even though you can’t feel it?” 

“Is this really an appropriate breakfast topic, Dean?” 

“Facefucking is always an appropriate topic.” 

Cas laughs, reaching across the table to feed Dean a strawberry. “I can’t feel it the way you can, but it’s --” He pauses, contemplating. “It’s good. It’s still really intense, watching you do that. It’s like any way I fuck you. I always feel a little honored to see you that way.” 

Dean can’t handle the way Cas is looking at him so he ducks his head and concentrates on his food instead. 

“You liked it,” Cas says, putting another strawberry to Dean’s lips, “and it’s not like I was letting you touch your cock while you were doing it.” 

“‘Let’ me,” Dean says, scoffing. 

“You weren’t waiting for permission?” 

“Jesus, Cas.” 

When Dean looks up, Cas is smirking. “We both know you were.” 

Dean pouts and says, “Maybe.” 

“If I told you you weren’t allowed to touch yourself until we see each other again next weekend, you would listen.” Cas waits a second for the horror to hit Dean’s face and laughs. “But I would never ask that of you.” 

“Good,” Dean mumbles. 

Cas stabs a bite of pancake, holds it up for Dean. “Is there anything you wish we were doing? Sexually, I mean.” 

“No. I mean. No.” 

“Are you misrepresenting the truth?” 

“No, I just…” Dean blushes, looking away. “At Christmas? You gave me all those bruises.” 

“Hmm,” Cas says. “I was a little over-zealous.” 

“I liked it.” 

“You like being reminded that you’re mine.” 

“Yeah. You, ah, ruined me for anyone else. Like you said.” 

“You’ve ruined me, too.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Cas:** I have some things to talk to you about. Can I come over after school? _

It’s a Tuesday. 

**Cas:** I have some things to talk to you about. Can I come over after school? 

Dean’s heart stops and his hands start shaking. 

**Cas:** Stop whatever you are thinking. Nothing bad. I promise.   
**Cas:** I love you. 

**Dean:** You too. Text me when you’re on the way. 

Cas said  _ nothing bad _ , but that doesn’t stop Dean from pacing back and forth in his kitchen while he makes dinner, watching the clock. Dean manages to overcook hamburgers like he hasn’t been making them his whole life, but Cas kind of likes them that way anyway. 

Cas lets himself in with his key and rushes to Dean in a way he doesn’t usually, throwing his arms around Dean’s shoulders and giving him a sound kiss. 

“Ooh,” Cas says when he breaks away, eyeing the burgers. “I haven’t eaten all day.” 

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Dean says, like they haven’t had this conversation a million times before. 

“That’s what I have you for.” Cas grins, leans forward to bite the side of Dean’s neck with sharp teeth. Dean makes a little noise, suddenly wholly uninterested in food, but Cas leaves him with just the single bite, reaching around to grab plates out of the cabinet. 

“So,” Cas says after shoveling through half the meal in about two minutes. “I’m not road tripping this summer. I’m going to do a couple weeks on the Appalachian Trail, but I wanted to spend more time with you.” 

“Wait, you’re doing  _ what _ ? Like, hiking?” 

“Backpacking. And no, I’m not going to ask you to go. Your knee is too fucked up.” 

“Are you sure? There are a lot more interesting things to see than me.” 

Cas rolls his eyes and steals a french fry from Dean’s plate. “There are a lot of places we can just go for the weekend. Maybe you could take a few days off and we could go to Lawrence.” 

“There’s nothing to see in Kansas. We left for a reason.”  

“Still, I’d like to see where you grew up.” 

“Ok,” Dean says. “We can do that.” 

Cas smiles. Dean smiles back. He can’t get enough of Cas. 

 

After the dishes, they end up on the couch, making out like teenagers, Dean pressed into the V of Cas’s legs, hand in his hair. When Dean pulls Cas’s collar to the side, mouth seeking that spot just above Cas’s collar bone that makes him squirm, Cas says, “Wait.” 

“Yeah?” Dean says, nuzzling there. 

“I have something else to tell you.” 

Dean sits up, looking down at Cas’s bright eyes, his smiling mouth. “Ok,” Dean says. 

“The ‘things’ I’ve been doing in Austin.” 

“The ones you won’t tell me about?” 

“I’m telling you now.” Cas sits up on his elbows to kiss Dean, stroking a thumb over his cheek. “I didn’t renew my contract in BCS.” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out, but I interviewed at a school here and they offered me a position.” 

“ _ What _ ? Are you -- are you serious?” 

Cas frowns a little. “I can still say no.” 

“Holy fuck,” Dean says. “You -- holy fuck. You’re serious. Holy shit. There’s not a ton of extra space here but Baby doesn’t really fit in the garage anyway so we probably wouldn’t have to get a storage unit… Oh.” Dean blushes hotly and looks away. “You didn’t say you were going to move in  _ here _ .” 

“I didn’t want to presume.” 

“But you would maybe want to?” 

“More than anything.” 

“Holy shit,” Dean says, aware he’s repeating himself and not caring at all. He’s grinning so hard that the kiss he tries to give Cas is mostly just a giddy press of lips and teeth, and then Cas is laughing, too, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders to pull him closer. Dean says, “Are we having celebration sex? Please tell me we can have celebration sex.” 

“Of course.” 

Dean rides Cas, their arms wrapped around each other, sharing deep kisses until Dean pulls away to say more than once, “You’re going to  _ live here _ .” 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve said that already.” 

 

Saying goodbye to Cas is harder than usual and Dean keeps drawing him back in for  _ just one more, I swear _ kiss. 

“Let me know when you get home?” 

Cas nods, steals a last kiss, and locks the door behind himself. 

**Cas:** I arrived alive. I guess it’s time to start packing. 

**Dean:** Fuck I’m so happy   
**Dean:** God cas you have no idea   
**Dean:** I fucking love you

 

Dean can’t sleep, thinking of all the ways he’s going to say “welcome home.” 

Starting with buying a ring. 

**Author's Note:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com) on tumblr 
> 
> i was not loved enough as a child so your comments mean a lot to me.


End file.
